


there are no heroes

by your_bespoke_psychopath



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, alternative universe, campy as fuck and I'm not even sorry, super villain and superhero - what could possible go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bespoke_psychopath/pseuds/your_bespoke_psychopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'But most importantly, River Song radiates the air of trouble. It is almost written all over her, shining like a bright neon sign: <i>a goddamn problem</i>. Don’t get him wrong, he likes trouble. But there’s trouble and <i>trouble</i>, and River Song is definitely <i>trouble</i>. She looks like mass destruction and chaos, a giant mess that not even a hundred men could fix.'</p><p> </p><p>[a fic for River/Doctor ficathon. the prompt - superhero/nemesis AU: The Doctor is the high-tech vigilante guarding the city, River the mad-cap evil mastermind wreaking havoc because she can]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. miss atomic bomb

Being a hero in London is pretty great.

He loves this job. He has always loved it: even when he was just starting, a level one hero, helping old ladies to cross the street and climbing trees to save kittens. He still loves his job: he likes that he can help people and make their lives better. He has more chances to do so now that he’s the residing superhero. He doesn’t always have time to go and help people on the streets, but he can do it indirectly from his office. It’s not the same and sometimes he misses running around the city, offering his help and advice to people. But he wouldn’t change or quit his job as the residing superhero: it has cost him so much time and preparation to get here. He enjoys most of his responsibilities: monitoring villains’ activity & coming up with the ideas to stop them, giving lectures at the university, training young people & helping them in becoming heroes and superheroes. He is not too fond of all the paperwork involved – you’d be surprised how much documents he has to fill in every single day – but he can deal with that. He even enjoyed working with London’s residing super villain. The guy – his pseudonym was The Master, go figure – was fairly nice and over the last 7 years they have developed a nice and stable working relationship. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t arch-nemesis either. They were something in between. And now, with The Master retiring, they have to choose a new super villain.

And this is the only aspect of his job that he hates. Granted, that is the first time he’s doing that, but he already knows that he will never find it even remotely appealing. He should be more invested in it – after all, they’re looking for the yin to his yang, the shadow to his light, the super villain to his superhero. He knows all of that. But he’s been stuck in this damn conference room since 9am, interviewed 10 candidates and none of them was even remotely interesting or qualified for the job.

‘Listen, guys,’ he leans towards two other people in the commission. ‘Do you really need me here? I have, uhm, things to do. My schedule is full and-‘

‘Sit down,’ Harriet Jones, the Mayor of London says sharply without looking up from the file opened in front of her. ‘Your schedule is empty for today, I checked. You are needed here and you will be here as long as necessary.’

‘Sorry, John,’ says Jack Harkness. ‘You have to suffer through that with us. And come on, you should be more excited about that! It’s your super villain we’re choosing here!’

Jack is an In-Betweener. To say it shortly, he’s a person who had a potential to become both a hero and a villain, but didn’t decide on anything and became a spokesperson for both fractions. He’s brilliant at this job: he knows every single hero and villain in London, he knows what they’ve been up to, he keeps track of their careers and knows about all their little or bigger sins. And most importantly – everyone loves working with him. It’s a tradition that the Main In-Betweener is present during the choosing of either the residing superhero or super villain. He makes sure that the chosen person meets the standards set by both fractions and he introduces the new person to the public.

Choosing a superhero or super villain is never easy. When a residing superhero/villain resigns from the job, retires or is killed, you have to elect a new one as soon as possible. First, an announcement must be made. Then, CVs and motivational letters come from the city and from all over the world and they have to be sorted. It’s when the first elimination takes place: applications that are incomplete or unsatisfactory are thrown away. Then a group from the In-Betweeners Office sorts them and chooses applicants who seem the most fitting for the job. Every application is crossed-checked to make sure that candidates didn’t lie in their resumes – which apparently happens quite often. Once it’s done, the remaining candidates are invited for the job interview. The interview commission consists of three people: the residing superhero/villain, the head of In-Betweeners and the mayor of London. Press representatives are allowed to watch the process, but they’re not allowed to interrupt or ask any questions until it’s over and the verdict is announced.

This year, 15 candidates made it to the interview. And ten of them turned out to be useless. Well, not exactly useless: some of them were qualified for the job, but they made a terrible impression on one or more members of the commission.

‘Only 5 more,’ sighs Harriet. ‘We have to do it. We can’t stay without the residing super villain. Okay, Jack – who’s up next?’

‘River Song,’ Jack reads the name from the file in front of him.

‘River Song?’ He snorts. ‘Are you kidding me? How can that be a real name?’

‘Something like that coming from a person called John Smith? Really?’ An unknown voice sounds in front of them. They all look up, startled, only to see a woman standing in front of them. ‘Good afternoon. River Song,’ the woman says and plops on the chair prepared for the candidates. They all stare at her in shock.

‘Good afternoon,’ Harriet Jones responds automatically. ‘Miss Song, uhm, we haven’t invited you in yet.’

‘Yes, I know... But you were taking so long,’ miss Song responds with a smile. ‘So I decided to invite myself in. Hope you don’t mind?’

Jack snorts next to him.

‘No, no, of course not,’ Harriet sends her an uneasy smile and he can hear that the journalists, who are sitting behind them, are starting to whisper. ‘So, miss Song-‘

‘Please, call me River,’ the woman interrupts with a smile that is not polite or friendly in the slightest. No, the smile that she gives them looks more like a dictation of terms. He takes a closer look at her. The first thing he notices about her – the first thing everyone must notice, surely – is her hair: blonde curls flowing down her shoulders, shining in the light, creating something alike to a halo around her head. A heart-shaped face, sun-kissed skin, a few freckles on the cheeks. A strong nose with a small bump in the middle. A pair of big green eyes that gives a look of sharp wit and intelligence. Wide mouth, painted in a shade of blood and curled into a slightly patronising smirk. But most importantly, River Song radiates the air of trouble. It is almost written all over her, shining like a bright neon sign: _a goddamn problem_. Don’t get him wrong, he likes trouble. But there’s trouble and _trouble_ , and River Song is definitely _trouble_. She looks like mass destruction and chaos, a giant mess that not even a hundred men could fix. He doesn’t like that, not even one bit.

The interview starts and River answers every question with ease and grace: she talks about her education, her achievements so far, previous places of employment. He doesn’t ask any questions – he’ll leave that to Jack, who’s more than happy to talk with River. Or flirt with her if you will.

‘Any superpowers?’ Jack asks her with a wide smile.

‘I look great in a catsuit,’ River replies with a wink. ‘I can show you if you don’t believe me.’

Someone in the audience whistles.

Right. He’s had enough. Time is slowly running out and they’re wasting it on idle chatter. He quickly goes through her file and- Wait. That simply can’t be right.

‘Sorry, excuse me,’ he interrupts Jack and looks up at River. ‘You haven’t been a residing a residing super villain yet?’

‘No,’ River responds and directs her gaze at him. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘I guess so,’ he shrugs. ‘We are looking for someone with experience.’

‘I have experience,’ she replies sharply. ‘I was a junior resident villain in New York. I had internships in Glasgow, Tokyo, Berlin, Toronto, Sydney and Pretoria. I was an assistant to the residing super villain in Moscow.’

‘That’s all very well, but how can we know that you’ll be able to handle being a residing villain on your own? How can we know that you’ll handle the responsibility?’ He asks and leans back in his chair. The woman sitting in front of him sends him a challenging gaze and he is more than happy to meet it. ‘We are looking for someone who matches my experience and my abilities. I am not sure you are that person.’

‘Sweetie,’ River says in a voice that sounds like acid, ‘I eat boys like you for breakfast. In every meaning of this word.’

He can hear the journalist furiously scribbling in their notepads. Both Harriet and John cough to mask their laughter and he feels that he’s turning red. Who is this woman to talk to him like that?

‘I am not your sweetie,’ he responds angrily. Granted, it’s not the greatest comeback, but it will do until he gathers his thoughts.

‘I wouldn’t want you to be my anything, trust me,’ River replies with distaste. ‘I’m not into kids.’

‘I am not a kid,’ he says angrily. He can feel Jack and Harriet looking at him with startled expressions on their faces. He’s known for never losing his composure and always keeping his cool. What the hell is happening here?

‘Are you sure?’ River replies and leans towards him. ‘You not only look like a child, but you behave like one too.’

‘I am superior to you in rank and experience,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘It’d be better for you if you-‘

‘Making fun of my name? Sitting like an offended little boy during the whole interview? Belittling my achievements?’ River says and points her finger at him. ‘And you’re saying you’re not a child?’

‘Oh, and you are Miss Grown-Up?’ He sneers. ‘Walking into the room without the invitation? Flirting with one member of the committee and being impolite to another member? That is adult behaviour?’

The whole room buzzes with excitement, but he barely hears any of it. His whole attention is focused on the woman who managed to make him livid in less than 10 minutes. She’s staring at him like she wants nothing more but to strangle him and oh, _the feeling is mutual._

‘You know, it’s funny, faulting me for coming to the interview unannounced,’ River says coldly and a thrill runs down his spine, ‘especially when it’s coming from a person who was not only late for his interview, but came in crashing through the door on a horse, with 4 small ducks in his pockets and a fez on his head.’

Damn her. And yes, it’s true: he was late to his interview, 7 years ago. He did arrive on a horse, with a few ducks in his pockets and a fez on his head. But there was a thing, actually a four things and a lizard, and he just got caught up in it. He was chosen as the superhero despite the horse, the fez and the ducks (although, he sometimes thinks he was chosen to the position thanks to the ducks. They were adorable). Everyone seemed to have forgotten about it now – everyone except the dreadful creature sitting in front of him. She’s making fun of him! She’s trying to embarrass him!

‘You went through my files?’ He asks in outrage. ‘You couldn’t possibly have access to some of them! How did you do that?’

‘It’s called research,’ River shrugs. ‘But then again, you probably don’t know this term, considering how ill-prepared you are for these interviews.’

‘Okay, okay, I think that’s enough,’ Harriet Jones says loudly before he has a chance to open his mouth and reply to River. The crowd behind them talks in excited whispers and he cringes, already imagining the headlines tomorrow. The only upside of this whole mess is that River will not become the residing super villain. This much, this good. ‘Thank you, miss Song- River. We will announce the results at midnight. Now, everyone, let’s take a short break. See everyone in 10!’

River nods politely at Harriet, smiles at Jack and doesn’t spare him as much as a glance as she leaves the room. _Good_ , he thinks with a small smile. _Be gone. I will be glad to never see you again._

A few hours later, at 11:48pm, he knows that his life is about to end. Actually, he’s pretty sure that the whole world is going to end.

River Song was chosen as London’s residing super villain.

He pleaded. He tried to reason. He begged.

Nothing worked. Jack and Harriet were hell-bent on choosing her and they would not listen to any of his arguments.

‘She’ll do you good,’ Jack says and pats his back. ‘Finally someone to challenge you.’

‘She’s a breath of fresh air,’ adds Harriet. ‘I am sure you’ll get along splendidly.’

Looking at the picture of River and remembering how much of a disaster their first meeting was, he thinks that they’re both very, _very_ wrong.

 

____

The next morning, the news that the new residing super villain has been chosen is everywhere. Media basically explodes: River’s pictures and information about her are attacking him from the internet and television. The radio speaks about nothing else but River’s election and his behaviour. The newspapers are having a field day too: River is on all the front pages.

Every single one of them.

He looks at the newspapers spread on his desk. The Times’ headline catches his eye: ‘ _Sparks fly at the villain’s interview: hate at first sight?_ ’ He groans but decides to read the article anyway.

‘ _It looks that the people of London can now proudly say that their city is run by arch-nemeses. At least that’s the impression one got after seeing John Smith (London’s residing superhero) and River Song (London’s newly chosen residing super villain) interacting for the first time. The interview was far from professional and pleasant – and it was largely because of Smith. His behaviour was surprising – usually goofy, friendly and beaming with optimism, our hero transformed 100% the second miss Song entered the room. These two clashed and burnt like magnesium oxide and water. Their discussion (if one could call it that) was full of petty remarks and anger, and ended only after Harriet Jones, the Mayor of London, broke it up. We don’t know what the future holds, but one thing we know for sure: it might be mighty interesting._ ’

Despite the tabloid-like headline and slightly sensationalised introduction, the rest of the article is pretty good. The writer wrote a profile on River, which shows her weak and strong points, her background and references from her previous employers. There’s also a passage showing the differences between River and The Master and how that may influence the city. In another paragraph, the author analyses his tenure as the superhero and lists the challenges he and River will have to face during their cooperation.

His phone rings the second he finishes reading.

‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ A loud Scottish voice booms in his ears.

‘No, Amy,’ he sighs. ‘I am not mad. It’s a pretty good article.’

Amy Pond. His life-long friend. Incredibly ginger and even more Scottish. A journalist.

The author of the article in ‘The Times’.

‘Well, of course the article is good. I wrote it!’ She says proudly. ‘So you’re definitely not angry?’

‘Should I be?’ He asks and sits more comfortably in his chair.

‘Nah,’ Amy says. ‘You should be grateful that I didn’t call you a barbaric moron.’

‘Me? Barbaric? Ha!’ He exclaims. ‘Have you even seen that Song woman? You’re calling me barbaric? Me?’

‘Yes, I saw her and you acted like an idiot. She wasn’t any better, but you...,’ Amy hesitates for a second. ‘I have never seen you like that before. What happened, John?’

‘I don’t know,’ he sighs. ‘I guess we just don’t match. I tried telling that to Jack and Harriet, but they wouldn’t listen. I don’t know how I’m going to work with her.’

‘You will have to,’ Amy states. ‘Listen, I know you’re still hung up on The Master, but it’s time to move on.’

‘What? Hung up? I am not hung-up on The Master!’ He splutters.

‘Oh pleaseeeeeee,’ Amy drawls and he can feel her rolling her eyes at him. ‘All these ‘ _he’s not a bad guy, he’s just misunderstood’_ talks that you’ve given everyone? All the rolling around on the floor with him to retrieve the weapon of mass destruction from his hands? All the threats you two have exchanged while whispering into each others’ ears? Come on. You fancied him.’

‘I didn’t fancy him!’ He shouts. ‘It was all in your head. He was a mate! And I didn’t fancy him. He was a bloke. A guy. Not that I have anything against guys fancying guys, I don’t. I mean, have you seen some guys? Some guys are lovely. Idris Elba for example. That Tennant guy. Or Rory.’

‘John,’ Amy says after a brief pause, ‘are you trying to tell me you’re having illicit thoughts about my husband?’

‘What? No! No, no, no!’ He shakes his head before realising that Amy can’t see him. ‘No, no, don’t worry. I mean, Rory is nice and all, but that nose... No, thank you. What I meant was that The Master wasn’t lovely.’

‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Amy mutters. ‘This guy’s mind was about as straight as a corkscrewer.’

‘That is not true! He was just eccentric.’

‘Eccentric, my ass. He regularly went cuckoo,’ Amy snorts. ‘This is not eccentric! This is insane. Remember that time when he wanted to create a device that would turn everyone on Earth into him?’

‘He was just thinking outside the box,’ he mutters. Deep down inside, he agrees with Amy. The Master was... A bit specific. He came with one idea after another and each one of them was madder than the previous one. But at least he was creative.

‘Yeah, he was thinking so outside the box that he couldn’t see the damn box anymore,’ Amy replies and sighs. ‘Look, he retired. It’s done. You’ll be working with River now, whether you like it or not.’

‘I don’t,’ he says grumpily.

‘Tough,’ Amy says. ‘Everyone could benefit from that. If only you could stop being so stubborn.’

‘I am not stubborn!’

‘No, you’re just a moron,’ Amy sighs. ‘And I have the misfortune of being your friend. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.’

‘Oi! I resent that,’ he says.

‘You can resent that all you want, but it’s still the truth,’ Amy says smugly. ‘Anyway, enough about your idiocy. Dinner. On Sunday. Our place. You’re coming.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he says mockingly. ‘See you then.’

‘See you,’ Amy says. ‘And John? I’ll tell Rory to wear his prettiest clothes for you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. it took me ages to finish this one. I really meant to finish it within a month, but the prompt turned into a 30k monster of a fic. over the past few months I didn't have that much time to write - work, home renovation, dumb shit like that - so I'm posting it now, 3 months late. splendid. I hope that whoever requested this fic will find it and enjoy it. I'm really really sorry it took so long! I know the prompt kind of got away from me and I just hope you won't hate me for that.  
> this whole fic is a weird mix of Yu's 'Third class superhero' and Gaiman's & Pratchett's 'Good Omens'. it just happened, I couldn't control it.
> 
> fic title comes from 'Little Guy From The Suburbs' by FFS. chapter title comes from The Killers' 'Miss Atomic Bomb' (obvs).


	2. who’s in control? who’s playing who?

The next few days are a nightmare. He’s ridiculously busy as almost everyone wants to hear his opinion on the new villain. So far he’s been interviewed by 10 newspapers, did 4 radio interviews and was on a breakfast show. Normally, he wouldn’t mind it at all – after all it’s a part of his job – but it all meant that he had to interact with River Song. The public wanted to see them together, especially after the information about her job interview had been published. He had to show up to the interviews – it would’ve looked bad if he hadn’t. And so he attended all of the events, smiled until his jaw hurt and tried his best to avoid River. Which wasn’t easy, since they were often interviewed together. During every interview they were asked about their initial disagreement and they both laughed about it and said they’re both over it and that now there’s no bad blood between them.

A very clever lie.

He still can’t stand the very sight of her: something about her rubs him the wrong way. He doesn’t understand it, because he’s never experienced something like that. He can see that she’s smart and capable and as much as it pains him to admit that, she is a good choice for the job – well, when you compare her to the rest of the candidates. It’s just something about her that bugs him. Maybe it’s her ever present smirk that says _‘I know more than you do’_. Maybe it’s the way she never shies away from his gaze or how she challenges him to think on his feet. Maybe it’s her hair. Maybe it’s the fact that he can feel that she will be a problem and sooner or later, she’ll leave a path of destruction in her wake. She’s like a time bomb and he do nothing but wait for the moment she explodes.

It’s Friday and he’s just done with everything. He closes himself in his office and asks Clara – his assistant and friend – to tell anyone who asks about him that he’s busy. It’s the first time he uses that cheap and asshole-y technique, but he needs to be alone with his thoughts for a bit. He’s exhausted of answering the same questions all over again and of avoiding River Song. As much as you can avoid someone sitting next to you. He managed to do it though: he tried to meet her gaze as rarely as possible, he avoided being alone with her, he didn’t laugh at her jokes. After two days she stopped trying to arrange any kind of contact with him and he welcomed it with relief.

Sitting in his office, trying to drink the tea that Clara made for him (some weird herbal stuff that is supposed to make him feel relaxed), he’s surfing the web, trying to gauge the public’s opinion on River. He hopes to find out that everyone else dislikes her as much as he does, but it’s not the case. Everyone _loves_ her. People think she’s funny. People think she’s smart. People think she’s pretty. People think she’ll make the greatest London’s super villain so far.

Well, he can’t help that people are _wrong_.

He turns his computer off and drums his fingers on the desk. He has no idea what to busy himself with. He could leave his office and patrol the city, but then someone would surely approach him and ask questions about River and that is the last thing he wants. He could monitor the city from his office – he has a whole wall of monitors, showing potential dangers and problematic parts of the city – but right now nothing is happening.

His gaze lands on a thick file sitting on his desk. He asked Clara to collect every possible information on River she can find and here it is: a few dozens of neatly printed pages. He slides it closer to him and opens it. Maybe he should read it now. Not because he’s interested in River Song – gods forbid, never! – but one should know his enemy, right? The file starts with a small bio: place and date of birth, parents (both unknown) and the name of the orphanage she’d stayed until she was 18 (The Greystark Hall Orphanage, New York). There’s not much information about her until her first Abilities Test.

Kids take The Abilities Test twice: first time when they’re 11 years old and the second one when they’re 18. The first test is supposed to judge whether or not a child has any potential to be a future villain or hero. It’s not to be taken too seriously: it’s more of a way to inform parents that their child may be gifted in some departments.

Throughout the whole of education, among the usual subjects – English, Maths, Geography and so on – kids also attend classes on being a hero and a super villain. They’re taught what both of these jobs entail, they’re introduced to the greatest heroes and villains from all over the world and they’re slowly being introduced to the idea that one day some of them may also work as a city’s hero or villain. There are summer camps where kids can discover and practise their skills and abilities. But at that stage it’s mostly fun and games.

Things get serious with the second Abilities Test. This one judges not only predispositions for being a villain or a hero, but it shows to which group one actually belongs. Only about 4% of the population qualifies as either of these types. The remaining 96% is... Well, normal for the lack of better world. They go to college or university, they find a job and they don’t have to bother with saving the world or creating havoc everywhere they go. The potential villains and heroes can always resign from their status and choose an ordinary life. If they don’t, they go to either The University of Heroics or The School of Rascals. Then there are a few years of studying, various internships and specialisations and finally, after years of work, one lands somewhere as a city’s hero or villain. Of course, you start at the lowest level – either some young offender who puts graffiti on buildings at night or a guy who helps old ladies cross the street. You learn, you get better – you level up. Simple as that.

Some people – like Jack for example – show equal predispositions for being a villain or a hero. They can either choose one fraction; resign from the whole saviour/destroyer business or become an In-Betweener. Sometimes, you don’t have to take a test to realise that you have predispositions – that’s the case of people with superpowers. When your kid starts flying during a walk in a park or if they bend spoons with your mind, you can be pretty damn sure that they’re a material for a bad or a good guy. A superpower is a lottery though – you can end up with something really cool, like x-ray vision or controlling weather, but you could always be saddled with dandruff control or being able to cook 2 minutes noodles in 1 minute and 58 seconds. Some men say that premature ejaculation is also a superpower that went bad, but he’s not convinced it’s true.

He doesn’t have any superpower. He doesn’t mind it one bit to be honest. At least he doesn’t have to pay tax for it. Besides, River Song doesn’t have one either. And he really doubts that her catsuit look is good enough to be considered a superpower. That must have been bragging.

‘ _That’s interesting_ ,’ he mutters to himself as he studies River’s file further. River’s results in both of her Abilities Tests were quite unusual, to say the least. In the first one, she got an incredibly high score on the predispositions scale. She scored 94 points out of 100. That’s a lot. Her second test turned out to be even more curious: she scored exactly the same amount of points in the villain and the hero category. That doesn’t happen often, in fact it’s extremely rare: in the last 75 years only 5 people obtained this result. It’s different from being an In-Betweener – while In-Betweeners have a potential to be either a villain or a hero, once they choose a career path, that’s it. They somehow become what they’ve chosen: a true hero or a villain. There’s no going back for them. People who score the exactly same amount of points on the villain/hero checklists... They’re fluid. They can choose one path, but the other side of their personality will always affect what they do. Heroes might find themselves sacrificing a few innocent lives for greater good, they might play dirty to achieve their noble goals. Villains may avoid sacrificing lives, stop their mischief once it goes too far or help someone in the middle of a crisis. It’s nearly impossible to predict their behaviour or control. And that makes them dangerous.

He leans back in his chair.

This is not what he expected to find in her file. He expected to find a perfectly ordinary girl, who wasn’t even that good at being bad and yet, he found something completely different. He takes another look at her file. She scored equally high numbers on ‘ _trouble maker’_ as on ‘ _responsible_ ’ and her ‘ _ready to sacrifice herself_ ’ score matches her ‘ _impulsive_ ’ level. ‘ _Smug/sure of herself_ ’ is on the same level as ‘ _the need for constant improvement’_. She’s a bit of a walking paradox. The more he reads, the more he gets interested in that woman. What made her choose the villain path? Was it a conscious choice? How will she behave? What can he expect from her?

He feels an unwanted thrill of excitement running down his spine. He’s always loved mysteries and River Song seems to be one. But then again, she’s River Song – an insufferable, smug, brand new nemesis of his. She may very well be the first mystery he’s going to hate.

 

___

Your first stunt as a residing superhero or villain is probably the most important thing in your career. It defines who you are in a way. Everyone is watching you, everyone is waiting for you to make the first move. Everyone is waiting to be impressed.

He was bloody nervous before his first proper action. For a few days, he’d been thinking what possibly would be big and amazing enough for him to make. He wanted to shine, he wanted pats on his shoulder, he wanted people to stare at him in awe. And they did, but it wasn’t just thanks to him. It was The Master who came up with help – sort of. He tried to make yet another of his outlandish plans happen. On that memorable day, he tried to take control over all the people on Earth. He figured that if he used satellites orbiting around the planet to broadcast his commands, people would become his brainless minions. The Master would’ve succeeded, but he was there to save the day. He quickly discovered the flaw in the Master’s plan, managed to stop him from sending the request to the satellites and stopped the bombs - that The Master had placed all over London - from exploding and burying everyone alive. And in that very moment, he became a true hero.

Now, everyone is waiting for River to make her first move. It’s been 10 days since she took over the super villain post and so far, she hasn’t done anything. He’s been waiting for her to make a move, expecting it really, hoping to defeat her, but so far, she hasn’t done anything. It made him think that maybe she doesn’t have any good idea and that she’s going to wait it out, hoping that people forget about it.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

It’s a peaceful and slow Monday morning when things start going to hell. One minute, he’s drinking his tea and watching videos of baby animals on youtube, the next minute every single alarm in his office is blaring. He jumps from his seat and runs to the wall where all the monitors are installed. Some of the screens show camera feeds from all over the city, but there are a few that displayed more complicated data. It took him a while, but he managed to write a program that analyses people’s face expression, their body language and translates it into information about their emotions. And at this very moment, signals coming from all over London show that people are angry. The numbers of ‘ _annoyed_ ’, ‘ _frustrated_ ’, ‘ _displeased_ ’ and ‘ _enraged_ ’ are through the roof. He glances on the other screen, where parameters like ‘ _chaos_ ’, ‘ _destruction_ ’ and ‘ _disruption of peace_ ’ are displayed. Surprisingly, ‘ _destruction_ ’ is at zero, but the meters of the remaining two are reaching 100%. What the hell is happening?

He looks at the monitors showing the city and _oh no_. This is not good. This is so far from good that it’s Very Not Good. If he was to be honest, he’d say it’s definitely bad. The whole city is blocked. No cars are moving – it almost looks like these are pictures of streets, not a livestream. How did he miss that? He looked at the screens earlier, he saw that traffic, he saw that rising levels of annoyance, but he didn’t give it much attention. It was a Monday! There’s always traffic on Mondays. People are always annoyed on Mondays! It was normal! But what is happening now is not normal and he has to do something to stop it. But as it turns out, there’s not much he can do: the traffic is there to stay. He asks police force to send a few more units to control the parts of London where problems may appear, he sends a few lower rank heroes onto the streets with coffee, tea and cookies. But that’s it.

He’s sitting at his desk, slowly losing his sanity trying to figure out how on Earth River pulled that off, when his phone beeps. The message reads ‘ _Fancy joining me on the roof? xx_ ’. The number it came from is unknown, but he knows too well who sent this text. He grabs his tweed jacket from the chair and with a sigh he leaves his office.

The headquarters of The Heroes and Villains Guilds are right next to each other. They’re both slim, high buildings, made from marble and glass. The only difference between them is that The Heroes Headquarter is made from white marble, the Villains Headquarter from black one. Stereotypes, how much we all love you.

He waves at the receptionist sitting in the lobby and heads straight to the elevator. Everything inside the Villains Headquarter is shiny, in shades of black and grey. Very elegant and very pretentious. The villains like to think that they’re the cool ones. Ha! They wish.

He goes to the roof and feels a pang of nervousness when the elevator’s doors open to let him outside. It’s terribly windy, but from here, you can see the panorama of London. However, all he sees today is never ending traffic.

‘Hello, sweetie,’ River appears next to him out of nowhere. He yelps in surprise. Is she trying to kill him?

‘Why did you invite me here?’ He says once he trust himself not to speak in falsetto.

‘It has a nice view of the city,’ River shrugs with an annoying smirk. ‘I wanted you to fully appreciate my first stunt as the residing super villain.’

‘Oh, I have already fully appreciated it,’ he says bitterly. ‘You paralysed the entire city!’

‘I know!’ River’s smile widens. ‘It’s quite impressive, isn’t it? Come on, admit it.’

‘It’s not impressive in the slightest,’ he shakes his head. It’s a lie on his part, but he hopes River won’t realise that. Because hell, what she has done _is_ impressive. Not that he will admit it out loud. ‘It’s a cheap party trick.’

‘Well then, if it’s a cheap party trick, why haven’t you dealt with it already?’ River shots back and raises an eyebrow. ‘I thought you’re supposed to be all mighty and capable.’

‘I am very capable,’ he responds.

‘Very capable, oh, I’m sure. But capable of what?’ River says teasingly and he chokes on his own saliva. ‘Oh my, I had no idea a person can blush so much! And don’t worry sweetie, I am not interested in checking out your abilities,’ she finishes with a wink. ‘Anyway, how do you like my catsuit?’

For the first time he actually looks at her. She’s really wearing a catsuit. A proper catsuit. It’s made from a thin black fabric and it clings tightly to her body. In fact, it’s so tight that it could’ve been painted on her. The top of it is unbuttoned just enough to give a glimpse of her cleavage and-

No, he is _not_ doing that.

He is _not_ ogling River Song.

‘How did you do that?’ He says, tugging at his bowtie and desperately wanting to change the subject. ‘Block the whole city, I mean.’

‘I don’t kiss and tell,’ River smirks. ‘But I can make an exception for you. It was pretty simply. I just had to make sure their alarms won’t go off on time. And that their cars won’t start. A few dozens of broken street lights and misinforming street signs did the job as well.’

‘Yes, I get that, but how did you manage to do all of that? You’d have to hack not only cars’ electronics systems, but also people’s phones and clocks! And street lights? This system is heavily protected!’ He says and peers curiously at River. ‘How did you do that? How long did it take you?’

‘I’d love to chat, but I have a press conference to attend,’ River responds with a smile. ‘My first official one. Can’t be late, I’d hate to make a bad impression. See you around!’ She says as she walks towards the elevator.

As he watches her walking away – definitely not staring at her ass in that catsuit – he realises 3 things:

1) he seriously misjudged River Song,

2) she will be even more trouble than he initially thought,

3) wearing a catsuit can be a superpower.

 

___

He has yet another reason to dislike River Song: she rides a motorcycle. Is there anything more cliché than a villain riding a black motorbike? He doesn't think so. He spots her one morning when he's chaining his bicycle to the stand. River arrives on her motorcycle, making a lot noise and making everyone look at her. She gets off of her motorcycle in one fluid and graceful move - something he really hates her for, because he can't never get on or off his bike without tripping or getting his shoelaces stuck in the wheels. He observes as she takes the helmet off and her hair spring in all the directions. _It's a miracle she managed to fit all that hair in there_ , he muses. What, he's not being rude, merely observant.

He bets she's one of those reckless drivers who speed between cars like crazy, with no respect for rules or speed limits. She looks like that type. People like that are the worst - they are danger not only for themselves but also for everyone else. Besides, motorcycles are evil in general. He's not saying that because he failed the motorcycle driving test 11 times. Motorcycles are big and loud, and too fast for their own good and- Well, they are clearly worse than bicycles. Take his bike for example: safe, stylish and perfectly suited for travelling in the city. Why would anyone want to travel in any other way?

Unaware of his angry inner monologue, River already parked her motorcycle and she's making her way to the headquarter.

She's wearing leather trousers. Black, shiny and absolutely tight trousers that fit get perfectly and are- _Terribly obnoxious_. Yes. There's nothing good or interesting about these trousers, he tells himself as he watches River climbing the stairs leading to the main entrance.

And if the image of these trousers is with him for the rest of the day, well... It’s definitely not because he enjoyed watching River in them. Not at all.

 

___

When he enters his office on Thursday morning, just seeing Clara’s concerned face makes him feel anxious. Turns out, he has every right to feels so.

‘I’m sorry, John,’ Clara whispers. ‘I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

He knows who’s waiting for him in his office. He storms inside and sees River Song, sitting in his chair, looking at the monitors showing the city.

‘You did it all yourself?’ She asks casually and points at the monitors with a lazy flick of her hand. ‘That’s quite impressive. How does it work? Can you monitor everything in the city? Inside the buildings as well? And how can you monitor people’s moods?’

‘That’s none of your business,’ he says angrily. ‘Get out of here.’

‘But I only just came here,’ River turns around to face him. ‘I thought we’re going to have a nice chat!’

‘You thought wrong,’ he shakes his head. ‘What are you even doing here?’

‘You weren’t answering my calls nor my emails, so I thought I should pay you a visit,’ River says and she stands up from his chair. ‘Should we grab a breakfast?’

‘I already had one,’ he mutters. ‘And if you want to talk with me, set a meeting.’

‘I tried doing it, but your assistant kept saying that you’re busy,’ River says coldly. ‘That coupled with the fact that you were ignoring my calls on your private phone-‘

‘How did you even get my private number?’ He asks angrily and takes a step towards her. She looks absolutely unbothered by his outburst.

And yes, fine – he might’ve been dismissing her emails and calls. He just didn’t want to speak with her, okay? He couldn’t help it and he can’t help it now – he just wants her to get out of his office as quickly as possible.

‘I asked for it,’ River shrugs. ‘When people found out what I need it for, they were more than forthcoming.’

‘And what could you possible need my number for?’ He rolls his eyes. ‘You wanted to have a chat with me?’

‘Trust me, that is not the case,’ River snorts. ‘If I could, I’d stay as far away from you as possible.’

‘The feeling is mutual,’ he nods his head with a mocking smile.

‘I sent you a proposition of a project and a plan for it,’ River ignores his quip. ‘Did you get it?’

‘It’s rubbish,’ he says and shakes his head. ‘Utter rubbish.’

‘What was wrong with it?’ River asks slightly shocked.

‘Uhm... Everything. It was a disaster.’

‘Have you even read it?’ River asks and narrows her eyes.

‘I don’t need to read it to know it’s rubbish,’ he spits out. ‘Listen, no offence, but I don’t have time for that. I don’t have time for this conversation nor I have time for your ‘ _projects_ ’,’ he makes a quotation marks with his fingers.

‘That is- _Unbelievable_!’ River makes a frustrated noise. ‘You are just... _Insufferable_!’

‘You are no better,’ he says through clenched teeth. ‘Walking into my office unannounced, demanding my time and attention, scaring my assistant-‘

‘I wouldn’t have had to come here if you had picked up your bloody phone!’ River hisses out. ‘I never had the misfortune to work someone as unreasonable as you!’

‘Me? Unreasonable? You’re the unreasonable one!’ He exclaims. ‘Not even two weeks at the job and you’re already making demands!’

‘And what am I supposed to do? Nothing? Sit quietly in my office until you give me the permission to speak?’ River snorts. ‘Forget about it!’

‘Uhm, guys, do you mind me interrupting your little shouting match or should I wait until you kill each other?’ Jack’s voice comes from the direction of the door. Both River and he turn their heads to see Jack standing in the doorway, looking both embarrassed and amused. ‘I heard you all the way down in the lobby.’

‘Stop exaggerating. And please, come in,’ he sighs. He turns towards River and to his surprise, he discovers that they’re standing just a few inches apart. Somehow, during their argument, they must’ve moved so close to each other that one could barely fit a book in the space between them. Instead of taking a step back, he takes a look at River who’s still staring at him with anger in her eyes. Her lips are slightly parted, her cheeks are flush bright read and he can see the stubbornness shining in her eyes. Right now, she makes a rather compelling picture and he understands why some people find her attractive. She’s a few inches shorter than he is, but that doesn’t seem to intimidate her at all – she stares him straight in the eye, without a hint of fear. She leans towards him and opens her mouth, as if she has something else to say and he unconsciously leans closer to her.

‘John,’ Jack’s voice once again startles them and this time they jump apart. ‘We had a meeting scheduled, but I can come around some other time if you want to stare at each other some more.’

‘No, no, she’s going,’ he shakes his head and points at River. ‘ _Right now_.’

‘With pleasure,’ River spats out and moves towards the exit. ‘Jack, nice seeing you. Coffee tomorrow?’

‘You bet,’ Jack winks and River smiles. She leaves his office without a second glance in his direction.

‘What?’ He asks when he catches Jack staring at him with a smirk on his face. ‘Why are you smiling?’

‘No reason,’ Jack says and grins even wider. ‘I’m just wondering how this one is going to end.’

‘This one what?’ He furrows his eyebrows. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You and River,’ Jack states and drops onto the chair opposite of his desk. ‘You’re either going to kill each other or-‘

‘Or what?’ He snaps.

‘Nothing,’ Jack grins cheerfully. ‘But either way, it’s going to be fun to witness.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank all of you who left their comments/kudos under the first chapter. I'm glad to know this fic is not 100% trash.  
> here's the next chapter for your (I hope) pleasure.
> 
> chapter title comes from FATM 'conductor'


	3. I just love the kind of woman who can walk over a man

Of all the coffee shops in London she has to frequent _his_. Okay, it’s not his per se – he doesn’t own it nor works here – but it’s his favourite. He was here first. He has a right to this coffee shop.

She must be doing it on purpose - invading his favourite places like she owns them. Take this very moment for example: here she is, a few feet away from him, ordering her coffee (white Americano, double espresso, no sugar, one pump of mint syrup) and not paying for it. Fine – being a first class villain gives you the right not to pay at cafes and restaurants, but does she have to flaunt it like that? She says something to the barista – Steve, a good fellow of his – and he laughs out loud, clearly delighted at whatever River just said. Great. She’s not only stealing his favourite places: she’s stealing his baristas! While she accepts her order, he notices that she throws a few pennies into the tip jar. River sends one more smile Steve’s way and leaves – probably to destroy more lives. Who knows. He orders his drink – coffee with milk, sugar and caramel syrup – and after a second of hesitation, he buys a chocolate cookie. What? It’s not his fault that he needs sweets to make his day better. He leaves the coffee shop with a heavy sigh and hopes that the rest of today won’t be as dreadful as this morning.

‘Hello, sweetie,’ a familiar voice makes him jump and yelp in surprise.

‘What the hell?’ He says once he calms his racing heart. He turns to River, who’s staring at him with a small smile on her lips. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Waiting for you,’ she says simply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

‘What? Why? I don’t-,’ he stutters awkwardly and River’s smile grows wider and wider. ‘You didn’t have to!’

‘Oh, but I wanted to,’ River shrugs. ‘We are going in the same direction, you know. I thought it’d be nice to walk together.’

‘No, it wouldn’t be nice,’ he mumbles angrily and starts walking without waiting for River, hoping she’ll get the message and leave him alone. But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

‘Sweetie, your gaze nearly sliced me into pieces back at the coffee shop,’ River says as she catches up with him. ‘I thought that it may be because of your burning desire to walk to work with me, so I waited for you. You should appreciate that!’

‘Well, I don’t!’ He exclaims and stops abruptly. ‘I don’t appreciate it, not one tiny bit,’ he takes a deep breath and points his finger at her. ‘And that is my coffee shop!’

‘Your coffee shop?’ River repeats slowly and he cringes at how terrible it sounds. But it’s too late to take it back now. ‘Yours? Do you own it?’

‘No, but-‘

‘So it’s not yours,’ River says and looks at him like he’s a petulant child.

‘I discovered it first!’ He says angrily. ‘It’s mine!’

‘Do you realise how childish you sound?’ River rolls her eyes. ‘You’re like a 5-year-old! At least now I know that your personality matches your looks.’

‘Oi!’ He exclaims and tries to ignore the stares directed at them by other pedestrians. ‘I am an adult. A responsible and respected adult.’

‘Prove it,’ River smiles innocently and he knows that he won’t like whatever comes out of her mouth next. ‘Walk to work with me.’

‘What? No!’ He shakes his head in panic. ‘What is that supposed to prove?’

‘Adults often have to be in the company of people they can’t stand,’ River says. ‘And they behave in a civilised and mature way. Do that and I won’t make fun of you ever again. I promise.’

‘Am I supposed to believe you?’ He looks at her cautiously. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t like you, I just-‘

‘You just can’t stand me,’ River finishes with a small smirk. ‘That’s fine. I am not your biggest fan either. We don’t have to exchange friendship bracelets or write cutesy emails to each other. Let’s just walk to work together and behave like proper adults. Can we do that?’

‘Fine,’ he finally says and quickly points a finger at River. ‘But just this once. This will not become a tradition.’

‘I would never dream of it. Even in my darkest nightmares,’ River deadpans. ‘Come on. Let’s go. You don’t want to be late for work, do you?’

He sighs and follows her. It’s not like he has a choice, does he? It’s just this once: he’ll prove this one stupid thing to her and that will be it. They walk next to each other in uncomfortable silence but there’s one difference between them: the awkwardness doesn’t seem to bother River. She walks besides him and sips her coffee like it’s the most normal and natural thing to do. She behaves like they’re... friends.

The silence between them drives him more insane with every step that they take. He has to do something, anything or he’ll need months of therapy before they even reach work.

‘I saw that you tipped Steve,’ he blurts out. River looks at him in surprise. ‘At the coffee shop. You tipped him. More than the usual 10%.’

‘Yes, I did. And?’ She raises her eyebrow challengingly.

‘Nothing,’ he responds. ‘I never thought your lot does things like that.’

‘Oh please,’ River says in a tone that suggests that she’s explained this more than once. ‘Of course I tip. I am a villain, not an asshole.’

‘Sure,’ he says and takes a sip of his drink. ‘It’s just... Never mind.’

‘Come on. You started it, be an adult,’ River says tauntingly, ‘and finish it.’

‘Okay. I never thought you’re the tipping kind of a person, because it doesn’t just suit you,’ he spits.

‘No, it doesn’t suit the idea of me that you have,’ River answers. ‘Right, let’s settle some things here and now.’

‘Huh? No, I’m not going to fight with you,’ he says. ‘I despise violence and I believe it’s never a good way of solving an argument- What?’

‘Sweetie,’ River stares at him with an expression that screams ‘ _you are a moron’_ , ‘I am not going to fight you either. Not because I despise violence, but because I could make you cry even if both of my hands were tied behind my back. I meant that we have to talk some things through. Here and now.’

‘Oh. Uhm, okay,’ he says and feels himself blushing. Gods, he just made a giant idiot out of himself. In front of River Song. Can this day get any worse? ‘Sorry for that. Uhm, so what do you want to talk about?’

‘I know you don’t like me and that’s fine,’ River starts and hushes him before he can even open his mouth. ‘As I said before, I’m not going to become a member of your fan club anytime soon. And by anytime soon, I mean never. But whether we like it or not, we have to work together. To do that, we have to be civil to each other. Or at least try to.’

‘I know,’ he admits quietly. ‘It’s just... Difficult.’

‘I understand,’ she nods her head. ‘I am a brand new person for you, you have to get used to me and my style. It may take time, I realise that. But if you want this city to run without any problems, you have to help me.’

He can feel her studying him as once again they settle into silence. It pains him to admit that she is right: they have to work together to make sure that everything in London runs smoothly. And they won’t achieve it by antagonising one another all the time. It would be easier if she wasn’t so damn annoying. With her hair and her smile, and the I-know-everything attitude-

‘You do realise you’re saying these things out loud?’ River asks him and he feels a wave of mortification washing over him.

‘I am so sorry,’ he says quickly, feeling like the biggest douchebag in the world. ‘I didn’t mean to say any of these things... I mean, I didn’t mean any of these things!’

‘Yes, you did,’ River says flatly and shrugs. ‘But I don’t mind it. You’re free to think of me whatever you want. If you only knew what I think about you...,’ her voice drops and he feels himself blush.

‘You think about me?’ He stutters awkwardly and stops. River stops as well and takes a step towards him.

‘You have no idea, sweetie,’ she responds and the grin on her face could be described only with one word: predatory. He feels both mesmerised and terrified – he knows he should run as far away from it as possible, but he can’t help staying and looking, only if for one more second. River clears her throat and he snaps out of his stupor. ‘But unlike you, I like to keep my thoughts private. Now, back to important things: do we have a deal?’

‘And what exactly is the deal?’ He inquires and River quickly answers.

‘During work hours, we forget that we don’t like each other. We won’t antagonise each other on purpose,’ she lists one thing after another. ‘No childish behaviour. No arguments in front of other people. That’s about it, I think.’

‘I think these are fine,’ he nods his head. ‘What about after work? What do we do then?’

‘As far as I’m concerned,’ River says, ‘after work we don’t even have to pretend we know each other. Don’t know about you, but I’ll be more than okay with politely ignoring each other once we leave work.’

‘See, this part? This part I like very much,’ he smiles. ‘I never thought I’d agree with anything you say, but here we are.’

‘Thank you, sweetie,’ River mockingly curtsies. ‘Should we shake on it?’

He stares at her extended hand for a few seconds, then he extends his own. River’s hand is warm and somehow, it fits perfectly in his. He holds it a bit longer than necessary, but he can’t just bring himself to release it.

‘Not that I don’t appreciate your commitment, but can I get my hand back now?’ River asks, staring at him with wide eyes and looking a bit... flustered. ‘I need it for work. And other things.’

He quickly drops it and takes a step back. Only now he notices where they are: right in front of their respective headquarters. He mumbles some kind of excuse and quickly darts to hide inside his building. Safely hidden behind the thick glass door, he sneaks a glance back at River. She’s still standing outside, looking a bit confused by his sudden departure, but she shrugs and walks towards her headquarter. He sighs in relief.

_What the hell just happened?_ He wonders as he walks towards the elevator. He has no bloody idea. Maybe he was just shocked that River’s hand was an actual human hand, not some kind of devil pawn with claws sharper than razorblades. Yes. That must’ve been it.

Right?

 

___

Ever since River and he made the deal about behaving like adults during work hours, everything seems to be running smoother. Okay, everything _is_ running smoother. Almost flawlessly smooth. Normally, it would annoy him, because the ride is no fun if it’s not bumpy from time to time. However, it’s never boring with River. Now that there’s a truce between them and he’s not trying to annoy and scare her off all the time, he has the chance to notice a few things about her.

First and the most important one is: she is good. Almost as good as he is, which is telling something. She’s perfect for the job even though she’s completely different from The Master. Which is a blessing if he’s to be honest. Don’t get him wrong – he appreciated the man and his mad ideas. He was a genius in a way. But The Master was all about destruction and blood. He wanted people to kneel in front of him and serve him, he wanted the streets to run with blood. He didn’t care if people died, all he cared about was winning. He was so blinded by this need to win and conquer that he often stumbled over small details. While it was interesting to fight against him, it was not worth all the things that were destroyed and all the people who got hurt.

River is The Master’s complete opposite. She doesn’t revel in destruction and carnage – she prefers mischief. The media call her _London’s queen of mischief_ and deep down inside, he agrees with this title. No other villain he’s known or worked with could cause havoc so effortlessly. It’s like she’s been born with this ability. River manages to find one thing that drives people insane and turn it into a big event. Take her first stunt for example: making people late for work and school by creating giant traffic. One could think that it’s just that: making people annoyed by making them lose their time and money. But it was more than that: angry people tend to snap. At their co-workers, kids, partners, friends. And people who were unjustly shouted at, tend to snap at someone else. And so the circle of anger and unpleasantries broadens. People are mad and angry. Their days are ruined and all of that thanks to one tiny thing like morning traffic. And just like that, the whole city is miserable. River’s plan was ingenious in its simplicity.

But what surprises him the most, is the fact that people like River - like and respect her. It’s not like with the Master, where they respected him because they feared him – people enjoy spending time with River. The journalist are fighting for a chance of an interview with her, men are lining up to ask her out, various magazines are requesting photoshoots, women want to be her friends and little girls want to be like her. A few weeks ago it’d have annoyed him: this blind adoration of River, but today he doesn’t mind it that much. He isn’t a fan of River’s – he doubts he’ll ever be, she still is as maddening as when he first met her – but he can understand why people are so taken in with her. She may be full of herself and think she’s the bee’s knees but she’s more than proficient at her job and working with her (or against her, sometimes he gets a little confused with the semantics) is slowly becoming a true pleasure and challenge.

 

___

‘Unmake it.’

‘Good morning to you too, sweetie.’

‘Unmake it.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘River!’

‘Yes?’

‘Can you explain why every single thing that is printed, is printed in Comic Sans? Even if the original file is typed in another font?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Someone must’ve messed with the settings.’

‘It’s happening all over the city!’

‘That person must be good, don’t you think?’

‘Yes. No, I mean, _no_! That person must be a pain in the ass.’

‘Is that a compliment?’

‘It isn’t, but I am sure you’ll treat it as one. And now, seriously: unmake it.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be the superhero for London? A high-tech genius? It’s your job to unmake it.’

‘I’m trying! I’ve been trying the whole morning!’

‘Maybe you should try harder.’

‘I am trying hard enough, thank you very much.’

‘I’d ask you just how hard you’re trying, but I don’t think it’s this kind of call.’

‘River! This is not- Just no. Stop. This is not funny. People all over the city are going crazy! Official documents printed in Comic Sans? College papers? Driving licences and IDs? This is a disaster!’

‘Thank you.’

‘River, this is serious! We have to send an official invitation to the president of USA and it’s printed in Comic Sans! ... Did you just laugh? River? River? No, don’t hang up on me! River!’

 

___

‘How did you do it?’

‘Will there be a day when you start our phone conversation with a simple ‘ _hello_ ’?

‘Hello, how did you do that?’

‘That’s not perfect, but I’ll take it. Now, can you tell me what you’re talking about?’

‘Pigeons. I am talking about pigeons. And the fact that all the pigeons in London developed a severe case of diarrhea. All of them. At the same time.’

‘That’s shitty.’

‘That pun wasn’t even remotely funny.’

‘It was. I heard you stifling a giggle.’

‘I was not giggling! This is not a laughing matter. The whole London is covered in faeces. 300 hundred people are cleaning it right now. I had to send some level rank heroes to help on the streets.’

‘And?’

‘All the carwashes are overflowing with cars! The queues to laundromats are ridiculously long! People are impatient and angry, and the bloody pigeons are all fine!’

‘What do you have against the poor pigeons?’

‘They shat all over my city!’

‘Would you like to be in their place and have a diarrhea for 5 minutes straight? While flying?’

‘I’d prefer not to have a diarrhea at all. And I’d prefer them not to pollute my town either.’

‘What was done can’t be undone. I’m sorry, sweetie.’

‘You’re not sorry at all, are you?’

‘No, not really.’

‘You’re evil.’

‘That’s what they pay me for.’

 

___

‘I can’t believe you have done that.’

‘Oh! Miss Song! I hoped I’d hear from you.’

‘The whole city is bathed in motivational messages and it’s all your fault!’

‘I think you wanted to say that thanks to me people will get cheered up on their way to work.’

‘No, that’s not what I meant!’

‘Still, it’s an upgrade from what you had planned.’

‘It’s not.’

‘It’s too!’

‘Not!’

‘River! You wanted to put spoilers for popular books and shows on the billboards all over the city!’

‘And?’

‘It’d make people furious!’

‘Exactly! That was the point, sweetie.’

‘You wanted to put ‘ _Snape kills Dumbledore_ ’ and ‘ _Hedwig dies_ ’ on Leicester Square! I won’t even comment on the terrible ‘ _Ned Stark loses his head’_.’

‘Everyone knows that already!’

‘That doesn’t mean they have to be reminded about that!’

‘Oh, but they have to be reminded that they are, and I quote, ‘ _a precious cupcake_ ’?

‘Oi! People need to know they’re special.’

‘And do they need to be reminded that they’re cinnamon rolls? A precious snowflake? Too cute for this world? Honestly, John. It all sounds like it was written by a teenage girl! What are you going to do next? Make friendship bracelets for the while city? Cry on a breakfast show about how much you love everyone in London and how we’re all friends?’

‘River?’

‘Yes?’

‘You too are a precious cupcake.’

‘John-‘

‘And a cinnamon roll.’

‘I hate you.’

‘No, you don’t.’

 

___

‘River.’

‘Hello, sweetie. Missed me already?’

‘Hardly. We talked just yesterday. Now. You know why I’m calling.’

‘No, not really.’

‘ _River_.’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you know anything about the recent public crisis? And by public crisis I mean the fact that someone hacked iTunes and now, everyone’s libraries have only Nickelback’s songs. No matter what song you choose, something from Nickelback’s discography will play. Every single song on the radio is Nickleback’s.’

‘I might’ve heard something about that.’

‘And how long will it last?’

‘I don’t know? A day? Two days? Maybe a week.’

‘No, no, hold on. You can’t make it last a week! People are complaining! I don’t really get why though. It’s quite a nice band.’

‘Of course. _Of course_ you like Nickelback.’

‘They have some catchy tunes, you have to admit it! And Chad is a great guy.’

‘Chad? You want to tell me that you know Chad Kroeger?’

‘Yes, I do know him. I’ve met him when I was in Chicago for vacation.’

‘Did he invite you backstage?’

‘What? No! River, honestly! But he asked me to perform with him.’

‘Chad. Kroeger. Asked. You. To Perform. With. Him.’

‘Always the tone of surprise!’

‘Forgive me, honey. I just had no idea that you can play any kind of an instrument.’

‘I’ll let you know that I am an accomplished guitar player. I also know how to play the banjo. And the harp. Oh, and the trombone! And the flute. And the French horn.’

‘You sure know a lot about blowing, that’s for sure.’

‘Yeah, well, give me a thing and I will blow it. River, why are you laughing? ... River? This is not what I meant! River! Don’t you dare to repeat that to anyone!’

 

___

It’s his lunch break and since he’s tired of food at the canteen, he decides to go to The Noble Diner. It’s a small place near the Guilds, so it’s usually packed with heroes and villains. It’s no different when he enters it now: every single table is taken by a group of people, merrily chatting over their salads and steaks.

Every single table is taken, expect for one.

In a small table in a corner, River Song is sitting on her own, reading a book and picking on her food. Why isn’t she sitting with someone? Everyone wants to be friends with her. Why aren’t these people here jumping on the occasion to befriend her?

Donna – the owner of the diner – waves his hand at him and shooes him away. He’s a regular costumer – he’s been coming here fairly regularly for the last 7 years. She knows what he’d order. He smiles at her and turns around and that’s when it hits him: he has nowhere to sit. The only free seat is at River’s table. Should he sit with her? Would she mind that? Technically, these are their work hours. They should behave in a civilised way. But it’s also their lunch break and maybe River doesn’t want to spend that time with him. He wouldn’t blame her.

He probably would spend his entire lunch break debating with himself whether he should sit at River’s table or not when Dave Dunbar enters the diner. He eyes the place, spots River’s table and smiles. In a really unpleasant way. In a way that says ‘ _oh yeah baby, I am going to score that_ ’. Dave is tall and athletic, made purely out of muscles, broad shoulders, flawless hair and a dazzling smile. He keeps glancing at River, even during ordering his meal and smiling that creepy, not dazzling at all smile.

The decision is made for him, really. A man like this is not going to sit with River Song. He nods his head and quickly moves towards River’s table. He unceremoniously plops onto the chair and makes River jump in her chair.

‘Mind if I sit here?’ He asks a little breathlessly.

‘You’re already sitting here, sweetie. Don’t you think it’s a bit late to ask for my permission?’ She answers calmly, but there’s a smile in her eyes. He ignores the damn nickname she has for him. It’s not the time to argue over that.

‘I mean, I could move if it bothers you,’ he says and scratches his cheek. He doesn’t actually mean it, because Dave is still lurking around, but impression is everything. And he is supposed to make an impression of an non-asshole-y adult, isn’t he?

‘No, it’s fine,’ River nods her head and closes her book just as Donna arrives with his meal.

‘Here you are, John,’ Donna smiles broadly and pats his cheek. ‘Eat, you have to put some meet on that skinny ass of yours.’

River snorts in her tea and he feels like even his ears are red from embarrassment.

‘Did you like your meal, River?’ Donna turns her attention to his companion. ‘Met your standards?’

‘It was the best spinach tart I’ve ever eaten, honestly,’ River smiles at Donna brightly.

‘Told you so,’ Donna winks at her and heads back to the counter. He sighs heavily. Yet another person who succumbed to River’s charm. It seems that he’s the only person resistant to it. Maybe he should develop a vaccine?

‘What the hell are you eating?’ River asks, looking both intrigued and horrified.

‘It’s fish fingers and custard,’ he answers and bites one of the fish fingers. ‘The best dish in the universe.’

‘Somehow I really doubt it,’ River says and frowns. ‘It looks kind of disgusting.’

‘It’s not my fault you have no taste,’ he mumbles around the food in his mouth. ‘It’s delicious and I came up with it on my own.’

‘Why am I not surprised?’ River shakes her head. ‘Just don’t tell me you dip your chips in milkshakes.’

‘Of course I do!’ He exclaims. ‘That is second most delicious thing in the universe.’

‘You are...,’ River looks at him with amusement. ‘Quite something. That’s sure.’

‘I am going to ignore your tone and just thank you for the compliment,’ he winks and slides his plate closer to her. ‘Come on, try it. It’s absolutely delicious.’

‘I’ll trust you on this, sweetie,’ River wrinkles her nose and looks around. She leans towards him slightly. ‘You do realise that everyone is staring at us?’

He casts a quick glance around and well, it turns out that River’s right: almost everyone is sneaking glances at them and talking in hushed whispers, undoubtedly wondering why they’re hanging out together. Wonderful. Let the gossip begin. And really, why do people care that they’re sitting at the same table? It’s none of their business.

‘I don’t mind it,’ he says and shrugs, biting another fish finger. ‘Do you?’

‘No, not really. My reputation is the least of my worries,’ River answers with a smile.

‘Your reputation? Oh, like I could taint it,’ he pretends to be offended. ‘Really, Song, you wound me.’

‘Oh, if you could only imagine other things I could do to you,’ River says in a low voice. In his ears this sentence sounds terribly suggestive and the worst thing is that for a moment he _does_ imagine the things River could do to him. These are some vivid and interesting imagines his brain came up with and no, he’s not going to think about any of that right now. Actually, he is not going to think about any of that ever again.

‘You are terrible,’ he mutters and avoids looking at River.

‘And you are just too easy to wind up,’ she responds and he doesn’t have to look up to know that she’s smirking.

‘What were you reading?’ He changes the subject and points at the book lying near River’s hand. Without waiting for her reply, he snags it and looks at the cover.

‘ _’Parallel worlds’..._ ,’ he reads out loud. He doesn’t even have to read the whole title, because the very same book is on his bedside table. He was definitely not expecting that. ‘You’re interested in this subject?’

‘A little,’ River shrugs, looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘It’s quite fascinating, actually. The mere idea of parallel universes is mind-blowing. But I understand that you may not be interested in-‘

‘No, no, I am,’ he shakes his head. ‘Although I am not convinced that moving to a parallel universe will be possible.’

And just like that, River and he start a discussion about parallel universes, time travel and the Big Bang. They talk about The Big Rip and Big Crunch as well, move onto the Big Bounce and broach the subject of eternal return. It’s surprisingly easy to talk with River when they’re not discussing their work or how much they dislike each other. He did know that she is smart, but he has never had a proper discussion with her. It surprises him how quick-witted she is, how passionate she gets when she talks about something she loves, but what shocks him the most is the fact that she understands him. It’s like she can read his mind – a few times she says things just before he’s about to say them. He’s never meant anyone like that. None of them registers the passing time and it’s his phone that stops their conversation. Clara’s calling him to ask where the hell is he, because he has a meeting with Harriet Jones and she’s been waiting in his office for 20 minutes. He and River have been talking for over an hour.

He bolts out of his chair, shouting ‘ _we have to do it again’_ to River and runs to his office. Once he’s in the elevator, slightly out of breath, he realises just how nice it was to talk with River without any petty remarks exchanged. Another thought hits him just as he tries to get this hair under control before walking into his office: as nice as it is to have River as a civilised nemesis, it could be even nicer to have her as a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad that some of you seem to be enjoying this fic :3
> 
> chapter title from 'The Night Josh Tillman Came To Our Apartment' by Father John Misty


	4. you're the only thing I ever want anymore

‘... ‘ello?’

‘River? Hi! Are you sleeping?’

‘John? It’s... 3am? I was sleeping. Not anymore though.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry! Well, go back to sleep, I’ll call you later.’

‘No way. You woke me up at this ridiculous hour, you may as well tell me what you want.’

‘Are you sure? Because I can call you in the mor-‘

‘If you hang up now, I will find you and choke you with your own bowtie.’

‘No need to be so aggressive. I read the file that you sent me. The one about your project.’

‘I don’t remember?’

‘Uhm, you know, the one you sent me a while ago.’

‘The one you never even read? One you didn’t want to discuss with me? One you ignored my calls about it until I barged into your office? The one we had an argument about? This one?’

‘Well, if put it like that... Yes, this is the one I’m talking about.’

‘And? I swear, if you’re calling me just to say it’s rubbish, I will-’

‘It’s brilliant.’

‘I-what?’

‘It’s brilliant. Really good. I have never looked at this like that. And I think some attention should be brought to this issue.’

‘Am I still dreaming? I feel like I am. You’re being reasonable for once.’

‘I am always reasonable. Always. I am the most reasonable person ever born. This is how reasonable I am.’

‘I am not here to listen to you blowing your own trumpet. Although, if you ever get lonely-‘

‘River! You are... Impossible!’

‘I know. Let’s ignore the subject of your trumpet for now. My idea is brilliant. What’s next?’

‘I didn’t say it’s brilliant- Fine. I did. Because it is. And I think you should pitch it to Harriet. And you should keep pestering her with it until she agrees to make it happen. And there’s something else?’

‘I am already terrified.’

‘I’d like to work with you on this project. That is, if you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t-‘

‘Listen, I know you may have your doubts about me and I understand that. But I am hardworking and I feel like this project could do so much good. I promise not to be a pest and to be supportive of you and this whole task.’

‘ _Sweetie_ -‘

‘I will even fill all the paperwork. All of it. You won’t have to ask me, I’ll just do it.’

‘ _John_ -‘

‘And I will answer all the dumb questions from the journalists. They’ll ask me if I prefer boxers or briefs and I will answer it. I will-’

‘John, can you just stop talking for a second and listen to me? I wanted to say that I will be more than happy to work with you on this project. And you don’t have to do all the things you proposed.’

‘ _Oh_. Okay. Uhm, thank you. I guess we’ll talk about it later today? Let’s meet first thing in the morning.’

‘Okay, fine. Now let me get my beauty sleep. And John? One more thing. Since you mentioned it... Boxers or briefs?’

 

___

The idea behind River’s project is simple: creating a support system for kids who have predispositions for becoming a hero or villain. The system would ensure that the kids understand what their predispositions mean, make sure they don’t freak out, but most importantly, it’d make sure that no one influenced them when it came to the choice of their future. Parents have the unfortunate tendency to push their kids in one direction: whether it’s making them choose an ordinary life or a fraction of their choice. And it’s not only about parents: siblings, grandparents and teachers can also steer the kid towards the choice they want them to make.

But River brought to the table one more important aspect: the kids in orphanages. They take the Abilities Test like everyone else. It has never been controlled if counsellors don’t try to influence foster children’s choices to gain something from it: either money or power and position in a fraction. These kids often don’t have anyone who could explain to them what being a hero or villain means, someone to confide in or ask for advice. He’s never thought about things like that. He’s helped various orphanages a dozen of times: raised money for vacation and trips, organised fundraisers for books and toys, made sure that Santa paid a visit to the kids every Christmas. But he never thought that they might need help when it comes to adjusting and understanding the way how their society works. He expected that the teachers and counsellors take care of all the explanations and guidance, but it turns out that it’s not always the case. 

River’s projects is supposed to change that: first, run a background check on all the counsellors working in orphanages across England and then, hopefully, across the whole Kingdom. They’re hoping to establish a law that would forbid active or retired heroes and villains from running orphanages. It may seems a bit strict, but it could ensure children’s safety and their peace of mind. The second step would be that every single kid in England would get counselling and psychological help whenever they need it, especially during and after both of The Abilities Tests. It’s not an easy task nor it’s something that can be implemented immediately, but he’s certain that it’s something that can be achieved over the years.

Preparing this project – which they called The Silence project - takes a lot of time, which means that River and he spend quite a lot of this time together. Working with River is... Surprisingly easy. Given their history and differences, he expected it to be far more difficult, but it turns out that he couldn’t have been more wrong. They work well together - like a perfectly synched clock mechanism. River is logical where his imagination gets the best of him, she’s sharp and unafraid to challenge him or tell him that his idea is stupid. She’s open to criticism and has no problem with admitting that she made a wrong decision or misjudged something. He expected it to be weird and uncomfortable: he’s not used to work with someone else – and neither is River – but somehow they just click together. It doesn’t mean that they’re friends now – gods forbid that. But they’re not enemies anymore and for some reason it makes him happy. He no longer feels the need to antagonise River all the time nor to negate everything she says and does. Somehow, they’ve become a team – they’ve learned to work together instead of against each other. She still sets his teeth on edge by calling him sweetie, or flustering him with her jokes or by wearing her all-knowing smirk, but he got used to all of that and in a way he even started to like it. He likes that she’s not as easily impressed with his ideas as everyone else, he likes that she always has counterarguments to his theories and she is his equal.

There, he said it: River Song is his equal in every aspect of this word. Most people have problems with keeping up with and understanding him, but that’s not the case with River. She always knows what he means or what he’s going to say and if it didn’t feel so refreshing, it’d be pretty damn unbearable. But for him it’s a brand new experience: finally having someone who gets him at all times. It’s funny, but with River he feels oddly at ease: he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone else nor he has to explain himself all the time. He just can be himself. He doesn’t want to dwell on why River is the person who can give him this level of comfort, he just enjoys it.

And then River manages to infiltrate every single aspect of his life. They work together, sure, but they also seem to do a lot of other things together without even noticing it. Every morning he swings by the coffee shop and buys two coffees: one for him and the other one for River. During the lunch breaks, they usually go to Donna’s diner together or they order take-out and eat in their offices. They recommend books to each other and then discuss them over extended coffee breaks. They challenge each other at QuizClash during boring meetings. He invites himself over to River’s place to play on her PS4 and has his ass beaten every time he plays against her. He even takes her to one of the Ponds’s Sunday dinners and much to both his terror and joy, the Ponds seem to immediately accept River as a part of their family. Usually it’d bother him, because Amy and Rory are _his_ friends, but it feels natural for them to accept and take to River just like that. Everything he does with River feels natural and like it is meant to be. If he believed in destiny, he’d start thinking that River is the one for him.

It’s a good thing that he doesn’t believe in stupid things like that.

 

___

One day he’s leaving work when a shiny black Royce Rolls limousine stops in front of him. The driver’s window rolls down and River’s face appears in it.

‘Get in,’ she commands and he’s too stunned to think about asking any questions. River drives away before he can even shut the door.

‘River?’ He asks carefully. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking you for a ride,’ she replies brightly. ‘Now hush, enjoy it.’

He relaxes a bit in his seat and looks around the car’s interior. The inside is very spacious and bright: the seats are covered in cream-coloured leather with dashboard made from lacquered pale wood. He cranes his neck to see what’s behind him: are these actual plush sofas? And a small television? He takes a big breath and damn, even air smells differently here. It’s sort of... pine-y fresh. And you know what it means if a car smells like that. It means it’s fancy as _hell_.

He look at River, who’s driving the car with a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. He never would have guessed that she has a car like that. She seemed like a great motorcycle enthusiast, plus he really doubts she could afford something like this. Maybe she was given this car as an official residing villain’s car? If that’s the case then he kind of regrets that he didn’t choose this career path. But then he notices something else.

‘River?’ He starts as he looks through the front window. ‘Why are all the cars letting us pass?’

‘Because we’re driving an awfully nice car,’ River quickly turns to him and winks. ‘Don’t you think so?’

‘Yes, the car is very nice,’ he admits, ‘but that doesn’t explain why everyone is stopping at the mere sight of us.’

‘Told you, it’s a great car,’ River chuckles but then she adds innocently, ‘although the flags on the hood may also be a reason for that.’

‘What flags?’ He asks nervously and then he sees them: on the hood of the car, there are two small flags in black, red and yellow. That’s when his brain decides to connect the dots. And he’s certain he’s one step away from an aneurysm.

‘You stole Germany’s diplomatic representation’s car?’ He squeaks out.

‘I didn’t steal it,’ River says calmly and he feels a ray of hope lightening the dark, panicked corners of his soul. ‘I just borrowed it.’

‘Do they know you borrowed it?’ He asks even though he suspects he knows the answer to this question. The hope he felt just a second ago is already dead and buried in the cold ground.

River shoots him a look that says ‘ _don’t be ridiculous_ ’ and presses on the accelerator. Hard.

‘We’re in the centre of London, you can’t drive that fast!’ He says and clutches at his seatbelt.

‘You can’t,’ River smirks. ‘I absolutely can. I think it’s my duty as the residing villain of London to break as many rules as possible. Don’t you agree?’

‘No, I don’t agree,’ he shakes his head, eyeing the speedometer and feeling his panic raising. ‘I have never agreed with anything less.’

River just gives him another wide and dazzling smile and turns her attention to the road in front of them. He shakes his head and loosens his grip on the seatbelt. What they’re doing – what River is doing – is stupid and dangerous and he should stop it at once, but he can’t help but feel a bit excited. It’s thrilling to speed through London in a stolen car, risking being caught and causing a political scandal. Usually, he tries to be on his best behaviour all the time and he enjoys it. He firmly believes that being good is nothing to be ashamed of and that it makes him quite a badass. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t miss this kind of thrill from time to time. This recklessness feels oddly freeing. He settles more comfortably in his seat and stares through the window at buildings and streets they’re passing.

‘Well, as long as we don’t get caught...,’ he murmurs quietly.

‘Don’t worry, sweetie. If someone stops us, I’ll tell them I kidnapped you,’ River pats his knee reassuringly.

‘Who would stop us?’ He asks and looks at her with wide eyes.

‘Oh, I don’t know... The two policemen driving behind us?’ River replies innocently, but he knows her well enough to know that this tone of hers means nothing but trouble.

When she bails him out a few hours later, with a naughty smirk on her face, he knows a few things for sure.

 **One:** turns out you can’t arrest the residing super villain.

 **Two:** but you absolutely _can_ arrest the city’s superhero.

 **Three:** he has to do something about coffee in the city’s arrests.

 **Four:** never again will he get in a car with River Song.

 **Five:** he might be lying about the last one.

 

___

There is nothing more boring that weekly city council’s meetings. They take place every Friday morning and it’s a time when the city’s issues are discussed. He – as the city’s superhero - is required to be there, along with a bunch of other people: the residing villain, the head of In-Betweeners, the City’s Mayors, representatives of various offices: the police, inland revenue and so on. They discuss matters like the ratio of crimes vs. good deeds, the number of unauthorised crimes, ensuring people’s safety, popularising both fractions among kids, the amount of money spent by the heroes and villains, how it can be reduced, what are the In-Betweeners working on, what projects were proposed by London’s twin cities... It’s a snooze-fest.

He used to skip as many meetings as he could, but recently he found himself attending them. It has nothing to do with the fact that River attends every single one of them. He simply wants to know more about his city and how to improve it. The fact that River is also present during these meetings is just another perk. Because when the meetings are long and boring (which they always are) he has someone to talk with. While River is definitely a more active and attentive participant of the meetings than he is, some subjects bore her as much as they bore him. It happens more often that River would like to admit - she claims to be more responsible and grown-up than he is - but that doesn’t change the fact that when she’s bored, River grows as restless as he does. But they find plenty of way to entertain themselves: they either talk about books they’ve recently read, they discuss a tv show they both started watching, exchange gossip from their offices or poke fun at people around them. Sometimes they play hangman in River’s notebook – although he has learned to be wary to play with her, because the phrases she sometimes comes up with are positively obscene. Sometimes, when the meetings drag out, one of them will pull out a book and they’ll start reading it together.

So when this morning he quietly slides into the conference room with two cups of coffee and sits on the chair next to River, he expects things to go as usual.

‘Hi,’ he whispers and hands her the coffee he bought her. ‘Sorry for being late. Did I miss anything?’

River doesn’t even turn towards him, but keeps staring at Harriet who is talking about her ideas to fight unemployment. Usually, when he brings River coffee, she gives him one of her most brilliant smiles and whispers ‘ _thank you’_. Not that he brings her coffee only to have her smile at him – he would do it regardless of whether she thanks him or not, but he kind of looked forward to that smile. He always looks forward to it.

‘Here’s your coffee,’ he says and pokes her arm lightly. Maybe she just didn’t hear him the first time. ‘River?’

She quickly snatches the cup from his hand and gives him an annoyed look. _Oh-oh_. She’s angry with him. That is not good. In his head he runs through anything that he could’ve done to offend her, but he comes up with nothing. Right. He has to approach this matter delicately.

‘River? What happened?’ He leans closer to her, trying his best not to disrupt Harriet’s speech. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ comes a terse reply. Okay. So definitely something is wrong.

‘Did I do something to upset you?’ He asks in a hushed tone and River merely shrugs her arms. ‘Is it about yesterday’s lunch? Because you said you wetr done with the chips and that I could eat them.’

‘It’s not about the chips,’ River says through gritted teeth. Right, so she’s at least speaking to him. This much, this good.

‘What is it about then?’ He ask confused. ‘Is it about the scratches on your motorcycle? Because it wasn’t me. It might’ve looked like it was me on my bike, but I swear it wasn’t!’

‘It’s not about my motorcycle,’ River hisses out. ‘It’s about... You killed my newest prank!’

‘Oh. _That_ ,’ he blinks a few times, feeling more than a bit perplexed. ‘But that’s my job.’

‘No, your job is to try and fight me while I’m bringing my schemes to life,’ River says drily. ‘You killed it before I even had a chance to do so.’

‘And that’s why you’re angry?’ He asks and shakes his head. ‘You’re being ridiculous. It wasn’t even that good.’

‘Oh, come on! It was pretty damn good,’ River says hotly. ‘People would get so mad about it.’

‘Exactly,’ he nods. ‘This is why I put an end to it. You wanted to change the layouts of all the social networks. People would go crazy! Everyone hates changes! And you didn’t stop there, no! You also planned to change every single profile picture on facebook and twitter to a photo of Nicolas Cage!’

‘That would be fantastic!’ River says and he rolls his eyes.

‘First, why Nicolas Cage? He’s a great guy,’ he whispers.

‘Sweetie,’ River stares at him with a ‘ _I-can’t-believe-that’_ expression on her face. ‘Nicolas Cage is the Nickelback of acting.’

‘And?’ He furrows his brows. ‘I don’t get it. Nickelback has catchy tunes and Nicolas Cage has great movies.’

‘I am not going to explain this to you,’ River huffs and turns away from him.

‘You’re just angry because I was smarter than you,’ he says smugly. It’s probably a dumb thing to say, but he can’t help feeling proud. He bested River Song. Hell yes.

‘You weren’t smarter, you were just lucky,’ she snaps back in an angry whisper.

‘Lucky? Lucky?’ He says outraged. ‘I managed to find the bug in the code of 5 major social website and I changed it back before anyone noticed it and before your stupid scheme started working. How is that lucky?’

‘My stupid scheme?’ River says and he can see her cheeks reddening. ‘You are just jealous that you would never be able to come up with something like that!’

‘And you are just a sore loser!’

‘Says the man who doesn’t speak to me for two hours every time I beat him in QuizClash!’

‘Will you two please just shut up?!’ Harriet’s voice carries through the conference room through the speakers and makes them jump. They both look at Harriet like startled children. ‘Yes, I am talking about you two. You’re more insufferable than usually!’

‘We were just-,’ he starts but River hushes him.

‘You were just having a domestic,’ Harriet says tiredly and he notices Jack hiding a grin behind his hand. ‘Now, will you please take it outside and preferably not return to the meeting today?’

‘Are you throwing us out?’ He says in outrage. ‘You can’t throw us out! Well, I think you can’t throw us out- River, can she throw us out?’

‘Come on, you idiot,’ River says and starts dragging him towards the door. ‘We’re very sorry,’ she throws over her shoulder just before the heavy mahogany door close behind them.

‘Okay, that was... Unexpected,’ he says and straightens his jacket. ‘I can’t believe you got me into this mess.’

‘Me?’ River says and pokes his chest harshly. ‘How is it my fault? You started the discussion!’

‘Because you were unreasonable!’ He waves his hands in the air. ‘What was I supposed to do? I wanted to help you see your wrongs.’

‘My wrongs?’ River repeats and presses her fingers harder against his chest. ‘Oh, I will show you my wrongs-‘

‘ ** _CAN YOU TWO PLEASE TAKE IT SOMEWHERE ELSE?_** ’ Harriet’s angry shout comes to them through the door. River and he stare at each other for a second and then they burst into laughter. It takes them a few moments to calm down and when they finally do, River is the first to speak up.

‘I’m not apologising,’ she says and clears her throat.

‘Neither am I,’ he shrugs. ‘So... Ice-cream? I’m buying.’

‘Fine,’ she says with a sigh. ‘I still hate you, you know.’

‘No, you don’t,’ he smiles and drapes his arm over her shoulders. ‘Come on. I know a great ice-cream parlour.’

 

___

It took a slippery floor to destroy his life.

One may think he’s overly dramatic, but it’s not the case.

It all happened on a warm and sunny day about a month ago. He and River were walking out of Jack’s office after a meeting where they discussed the Silence project. The meeting went great and he was talking that soon they’ll be able to bring it to life and that there’s still so much they have to do. And he was so focused on talking and on River’s responses that he completely forgot that the floors in The In-Betweeners’ Headquarter had been designed by the devil himself: made from sand-coloured marble and polished like a mirror. He’s slipped on this floor every single time he visited this place and he should know better than walking without looking at his feet.

It happened fast: one moment he was walking and the next – _bam!_ his feet were slipping on the damn floor. River caught his arm to prevent him from falling, but it was too late: he was already on the way to the ground and he was taking River with him. His back and head connected with the hard cold floor and his own yelp of pain was muffled by River’s one. The fall knocked the breath out of him, but something else entirely took his breath away.

River was sprawled on top of him. Her body was touching his on the entire length.

It took him a few seconds to register it and only after that he started noticing things: how warm her body was against his, how soft it was and that it seemed to fit perfectly against his own.

'Are you okay?' River asked him and her lips lightly brushed his neck. He suddenly felt a wave of heat washing over him.

'I am, uhm, I think I'm fine,' he managed to stutter and took a deep breath. He felt River's perfume enveloping him: warm, spicy and slightly dark scent that clung to her all the time. He closed his eyes again and felt River getting up. A part of him wanted to grab her and keep her to him, jest where she was just a second ago, and another part of him was asking what the hell is going on.

'John, are you sure you're okay?' River's voice stirred him back to reality. She was on his knees next to him, looking at him with concern on her face. Her hair was illuminated by the hall lights, shining like a golden halo, her eyes were bright and wide, in most fascinating shade of green he's ever encountered. He blinked again. What the hell was happening to him?

'Yes, I'm okay,' he said and sat up. His vision slightly swam and River quickly steadied him. River tentatively touched his head, deft but delicate fingers running through his hair, gently checking his scalp for any injuries. Her fingers felt nice in his hair and despite the slight sting of pain, he leaned into her touch. Then, another thought bloomed in his mind: how would her hands feel on other parts of his body? A series of rather vivid images flashed through his mind and he jumped onto his feet with a rather undignified shout. River, who was still kneeling on the floor, looked at him with surprise.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ She asked once again. ‘Maybe you should see a doctor?’

‘Me? A doctor? There’s no need for that! Doctor? _Doctor who_?’ He babbled and rushed to the door. He needed to leave this place and River as soon as possible: not only in hope to clear his mind, but also because the blood that was rushing through his ears just a second ago was now to a completely different part of his anatomy. ‘Uhm, sorry for that- Uhm, thing, fall- Are you okay? Yes? Okay? Great! Bye, I’ll see you- I’ll see you!’

He spent the rest of the day hidden in his office and going through what just happened to him frame by frame. He kept asking himself all variations of _‘what?’ ‘how?’ ‘who?’_ and _‘why?’_ questions, but he came no closer to finding the answers. And then, when he was going through his third cup of coffee, it hit him: he was attracted to River Song. This revelation nearly made his head explode. It wasn’t that he didn’t know that River was attractive: of course he realised that, he had eyes for gods’ sake. He also knew that people were attracted to her – he saw how they reacted every time she entered the room and he knew how many of them asked River out.

He just never thought _he_ was attracted to her.

Turns out he was wrong. Oh boy. He was so wrong.

The problem with his attraction is that it’s just _there_. He can’t get rid of it, he can’t unsee it, he can’t unfeel it. He wishes he could turn back time and unmake everything that happened, but he can’t.

He’s stuck fancying River Song.

Which is quite annoying if he’s too be honest. Now every time he’s around River, he feels like an utter fool: he stumbles over his words when she looks at him, he trips when she touches him, he blushes when she smiles. Instead of focusing on their conversation he stares at her lips and when she asks him a question, he can’t answer it because he’s too busy admiring her curls. It’s terrible and borderline pathetic, but he can’t do to stop it. While he can more or less control his thoughts during the day, at night he’s completely at mercy of his subconsciousness. As it turns out, his subconsciousness comes up with dreams that leave him frustrated, restless and aroused. It’s been like that for a month now and he feels that a few more days – and nights – like that and he may go insane. And it’s not like he has never been attracted to anyone, he has: he had his share of girlfriends and boyfriends, a few one-night stands. But it has never felt like what he’s experiencing right now: all-consuming attraction that leaves him exhausted and light-headed.

‘You should ask her out,’ Amy says one day. He’s at the weekly Sunday dinner at the Ponds’ flat, but instead of munching on the delicious food and catching up with his friends, he stares through the window and pushes his food from one side of the plate to another.

‘She’d never go out with me,’ he sighs wistfully and then he realises what he just said. His head snaps up and he sees both Amy and Rory staring at him with amusement and concern on their faces. He laughs awkwardly. ‘Uhm, what, who are you talking about?’

Rory just sighs and starts cleaning the dishes. He pats him on the shoulder and disappears in the kitchen, leaving him alone with Amy.

‘Amy, listen,’ he starts, knowing that if he lets Amy talk now, he won’t here the end of it.

‘No, you listen,’ she interrupts him and leans towards him. ‘You need to do something about it. Either ask River out and let her shag your brains out or get over this crush, because it’s getting pathetic.’

‘I don’t want to ask River out!’ He squeaks out. Gods, how did that happen? He’s talking about his love life with Amy. It’s like his own personal idea of hell. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from, but it’s wrong.’

‘Please,’ Amy rolls her eyes. ‘She’s all you’ve been talking about these past few months. Ever since she was chosen as the super villain if I’m to be precise.’

‘It’s not-‘

‘Every time I see you two together, you follow her like an enamoured puppy and you stare at her like she’s the tastiest dessert you’ve ever seen,’ Amy continues, not paying attention to his interruption. ‘Trust me, it sickens me to witness something like that. It’s like watching your parents making out. And all that flirting?’

‘We don’t flirt!’ He shouts and plans to say a few more things, but Amy silences him with a glance.

‘You bicker all the time and for you it’s basically the same thing,’ she makes a face. ‘Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes _: ask her out_.’

‘I told you: she’d never go out with me,’ he says and slumps in his chair in defeat.

‘Gave it some thought, didn’t you?’ Amy asks smugly and he’s about to protest but doesn’t. The truth is that yes, he has thought about asking River out. Multiple times. He’s imagined standing on her doorstep in a suit and with flowers, taking River out to theatre or a gallery, to a restaurant or a fancy cafe. Hell, even to zoo! But these were all fantasies, nothing more. He can’t just ask her out!

‘Amy,’ he says carefully. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘It is very simple,’ Amy says in a tone that suggests she will accept no objection. ‘You’re already dating, just not officially. You spend most of your time together, either at work or in your free time. Come on! You ask her out already. Best case scenario, she agrees and you get a chance of getting laid. Which, no offence, but you need. Worst case scenario, she refuses. It’s a bit awkward, but it’s not the end of the world!’

He’s not that sure about that. He’s pretty sure that River’s refusal could completely shatter his world – and who knows, maybe the actual world as well. He knows he’s being overdramatic, but he has every right to behave like that: he’s absolutely at loss what to do.

Amy opens her mouth to speak again, but thankfully she’s interrupted by Rory who walks into the room with dessert. Turns out that Amy can’t give him life lessons and devour chocolate cupcakes at the same time, so she lets the whole River issue a rest. For now.

By the end of the evening, he decides that he’s going to do it: he’s going ask River out. Maybe it’s the chocolate cupcakes talking, but Amy’s right: he has to do something about it. So on the next morning he buys a small bouquet of daisies and heads towards the coffee shop he and River frequent almost every morning. He’s there a bit later than usually, but he hopes that River is waiting for him. He went over this whole thing a few times: he’s going to give her the flowers, pay for her coffee and then, when they’re strolling to work, he’ll ask her out. It’ll look perfectly causal and friend-like and hopefully, River won’t feel ambushed or pressured. He also told himself that no matter what her answer is, he’ll will behave like a gentleman about it. He’s just a several feet away from the coffee shop when he spots River and his heart skips with joy, until he notices she’s not alone. She’s leaving the coffee shop – _their_ coffee shop – with some tall, hunky guy. The guy is at least a head taller and twice as wide as he is. Mr McHunk says something that makes River laugh – she even throws her head back in delight. He even has the audacity to touch one of River’s curls – he pulls it until it straightens and then watches it spring back to its natural shape and River-

River does nothing. She even seems to be enjoying it. The two of them start walking away, chatting like there’s no one else in the world, except the two of them.

Well. At least he has his answer and confirmation: River would definitely never agree to go out with him. There it is: loud and clear. At least he saved himself some embarrassment.

He chucks the daisies into the nearest bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thanks to all of you who left kudos and comments under the last chapter. I'm glad to know some of you enjoy this story :).
> 
> chapter title from 'conversation 16' by The National.


	5. yours is the face that makes my body burn

The Neutrality Ball, also known as The Grey Ball, is an event the whole city lives for. And if not the whole city, at least its heroes and villains. One night a year, the distinction between goodies and baddies is forgotten. For one night every villain and hero becomes a regular citizen. Everyone drops their acts and forget who they are every day. People party with each other all night without any bias, even though the next day they’ll once again work against each other.

Every year, he looks forward to The Ball. He likes meeting new people and interacting with them without the masks they all have to wear daily. Delicious food and free drinks don’t hurt either. This year, he’s been more excited than usually – and despite what Amy says, it has nothing to with the fact that River will be here as well. He’s just excited about the dancing.

Yes. _River_. It’s been nearly a month since he almost asked her out. Things have been... Perfectly fine to be honest. He felt a bit weird around her for a day or two, but then he realised that it’s not her fault that she prefers some other guy and that he’s not her type. It’s done. He’s already over it – and he is totally over River. She’s not the right person for him and they’re probably better off as friends. At least this is what he tells himself when he can’t fall asleep at night. He also ignores the little voice in his head telling him that he never asked River out so he can’t be sure that she would never go out with him. But that’s not the time nor place to dwell on things like that.

Like every year, The Ball is held at The City Hall. He arrives fashionably late, wearing his sharpest suit and looking quite damn dapper if he’s allowed to say so. He greets a few people: friends, colleagues, usually-enemies-but-today-acquaintances. He scans the crowd for the familiar face, but River is nowhere to be found. Not that he’s looking for her, but the city’s superhero greeting the city’s main villain would be a nice gesture, wouldn’t it?

‘She’s not here yet,’ Jack’s voice booms behind him and he nearly chokes on his champagne. ‘You can stop staring at the crowd so intently. I am sure you’ll notice when she arrives.’

‘I have no idea whom you’re talking about,’ he turns around to face Jack. ‘Wait, is that glitter in your hair?’

Jack simply laughs and flashes his best smile at him. He’s wearing a black suit, covered in sequins. He didn’t bother with a tie – or with a shirt for that matter. He did, however, bother with glitter. He’s basically covered in it – his face, hair, chest, hands – and he’s sparkling in all the colours of the rainbow.

‘Yes, it is glitter,’ Jack says and twirls on the spot to present himself better. ‘Everyone digs glitter. Those who say they don’t – they dig it the hardest.’

‘You look like that guy from ‘ _Twilight_ ’,’ he mumbles and sneaks one more glance at the door.

‘And you look like a puppy that’s waiting for his owner to return,’ Jack shoots back. ‘She’ll arrive, don’t worry. Enjoy yourself in the meantime! Go and mingle!’

He plans to say something clever, but Jack is already gone – dancing with some guy from the Bandits department. Turns out he was right: everyone digs glitter. Even 7 feet tall guys with bald heads and prison tattoos. Go figure. Next to them, there’s Mr McHunk – the dude River’d been talking with on the day when he wanted to ask her out. McHunk is wearing a baby blue tuxedo and is dancing with... Another man. Both of them are wearing wedding bands and from what he can see, they look absolutely enamoured with each other. Right. Okay. There’s a good chance that he’s been wishing harm on a man who is in a stable relationship and hadn’t been trying to pick River up. Wonderful. He makes a mental note to find out McHunk’s real name and send him a fruit basket or something like that, as an ‘I’m really sorry for being an idiot’ gift. And honestly, he really needs to stop being an idiot.

He makes a few rounds around the ballroom, shakes more than a dozen pairs of hands, starts a conga line and he’s definitely, absolutely not checking if River has arrived yet.

He’s ordering a cocktail at the bar when the room suddenly goes quiet. He turns around only to see River walking down the stairs – on the arm of The Minister of Disorder, Harvey Bishop. River’s walking down, seemingly unaware of the attention that is directed at her. But all the eyes in the room are turned at her and boy – there’s a good reason for that. She’s wearing a floor-length black dress, made from fabric that seems to shimmer and flow with every move she makes. The top of this dress is either the best or the worst thing that ever happened to this world. Actually, it could be both of these things at the same time. It’s a corset, shiny thanks to some kind of sequins or stones sewn onto it and it’s cut low enough to turn heads of all the men – and quite a few women – in the room. He grabs his drink from the counter and downs it in one gulp. _Act cool_ , he tells himself, _everything is going to be fine_.

As River and her partner reach the dancefloor, the crowd shakes off the shock – or maybe it’s the awe? – and in a few seconds everything goes back to normal. People rush to greet River and the minister, and soon he can’t even spot them among the sea of guests. Well then. Surely, River will find him to say hello, won’t she? He only has to be patient.

She doesn’t. It’s like she hasn’t even considered that he might be here. She’s too busy having fun, he thinks bitterly. All the drinks and the jokes, all the dances with her admirers... Of course she doesn’t have time for him. _To be fair_ , he thinks as he makes his way to the terrace, _River is still fairly new to the city_. People haven’t gotten tired of her yet. She’s smart, funny and has already made a name for herself. And with the way she looks tonight... No wonder everyone is swarming around her like flies.

He steps onto the terrace and takes a deep breath. After the heat and humidity of the ballroom, the night air is pleasantly cool on his skin. He leans against the railing and stares into the garden surrounding The City Hall. It’s decorated with thousands of white fairy lights and almost every tree and flower are glowing, bathed in white lights. It’s quiet out there – the noise of the celebration is muffled by the heavy glass door and he feels himself relax.

He runs fingers through his hair and closes his eyes. It’s time to go home. He had his fun, the party is as great as usually, but somehow he expected this evening to turn out a bit differently. Maybe it was foolish of him. And it’s not that he’s feeling disappointed- Okay, he is disappointed. River could at least come and say hello. That would have been enough.

The door behind him open and he hears heels clicking on the marble floor. He groans quietly and pastes a forced smile on his lips. There goes his moment of peace.

‘Here you are,’ River’s voice makes him jump a bit. ‘I thought I’ve missed you. Hello, sweetie.’

His heart starts hammering in his chest. River’s here! She came to him and it seems that she’s been looking for him. He wants to turn around and ask if she wants to get a drink, or if she wants to dance or maybe she’d fancy chatting with him here? But then he remembers Jack’s ‘ _like a puppy’_ remark and something heavy settles in his stomach. His hands clench into fists.

‘It took you only 2 hours to find me,’ he replies drily and doesn’t turn his head when River stands next to him, leaning against the railing. ‘I feel honoured.’

‘Been counting?’ She says playfully and he finally turns his head to look at her. Her tonight’s make-up is heavier than usually: she’s wearing eyeshadows in various shades of grey, with black lashes that make her eyes look bigger and greener than usually. Her cheeks are blushed and he’s not sure if it’s from alcohol and dancing or is it another make-up trick. Her lips are painted to perfection with a shiny wine-red lipstick.

She looks like a work of art: perfect and untouchable.

He wonders if anyone will smudge her lipstick tonight.

The mere thought of that makes him sick.

‘I wasn’t waiting for you,’ he lies and for a moment he even believes himself. River looks at him – she gives him a surprised and slightly wounded look – but it disappears in a second and she smiles teasingly.

‘I wouldn’t expect you to,’ she finally replies. ‘Have you been enjoying yourself?’

‘Certainly not as much as you have,’ he says bitingly. Once again, River looks at him in surprise. He feels like an utter jerk for snapping at her like that, but it’s like he can’t control the words tumbling out of his mouth.

‘What can I say, it’s a great party,’ she smiles but this time her grin seems a bit forced. He should stop it right now, apologise and invite her back to the ballroom, but his mind has a totally different plan.

‘A great party? For you certainly,’ he says and even he slightly cringes at the venom in his own voice. River stares at him for a bit and this time all traces of humour are gone from her face.

‘I have no idea what has gotten into you tonight, but if you fetch me a cocktail and promise to dance with me, I’ll forget that the last few minutes ever happened,’ River says quietly and looks at him with a plea in her eyes.

He wishes he could do that. He wants to turn it all into a joke, apologise, have her call him an idiot and just forget about that. He knows River well enough to be sure that she wouldn’t hold it against him and would never return to this moment again.

It could be so easy.

But his mind chooses to remind him that he does behave like a puppy around her: a poor, unwanted puppy, begging for the smallest bit of attention – attention that she won’t give him. He’s angry at her even though he has no reason to – she doesn’t owe him anything and certainly doesn’t have to fancy him just because he fancies her. He knows that all too well and the rational part of his brain tells him to stop being a wanker. However, there’s a much bigger part of his brain – fuelled by alcohol and jealousy – that wants to punish her and push her away. Maybe then he’d be able to get over her.

‘Why, can’t one of your disciples do that?’ He asks bitterly. ‘I’m sure that some of them are willing to do that... If not more.’

He can see how River pales even in the dim light on the terrace. She purses her lips and for a second she looks at him like he has just disappointed her. He already regrets his words but it’s too late to take them back. Besides, the anger is still simmering under his skin like it’s just waiting for a way to escape and set everything around him on fire.

‘You know what?’ River says flatly and takes a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I should spend this evening with someone who appreciates me. I’m going to ask one of my disciples to get me a drink. And maybe something else as well.’

She turns to leave, not sparing him even one more look. That’s what he wanted, isn’t it? To get rid of her and be free. He should feel good right now, but his mind is showing him images of what is going to happen next:

_River will go back to the ballroom and some idiot with slicked back hair will come running to her, ready to fulfil her every wish. He’ll get her the drink she wants and another one and another. He’ll ask her to dance and she’ll agree. At midnight the idiot will try to kiss her and River may let him. Who knows what may happen next? Who knows what River will let him do?_

All _he_ knows is that the mere thought of someone touching River makes him furious. He feels a surge of possessiveness and anger cursing through his bloodstream when he thinks about someone kissing her and taking off her clothes.

Even though River's body language and his own mind warm him against it, he chooses to ignore it. He grabs her wrist, tugging her towards him. She falls into his arms with a startled gasp and before she can demand any explanation, he leans down and kisses her. It's not much of a real kiss, really, more of a press of his lips against her, but that's enough to make him feel a bit lightheaded. River's hands are balled into fists against his chest and it seems that she's too stunned to react to this whole situation in any way. For a second he doesn't care, but then it hits him - he's kissing River. Normally, he'd be ecstatic about it, but this situation is far from normal. Not only he’s been behaving like a total asshole towards her tonight but he also forced himself into her. He's an absolute tosser and he is very lucky that River hasn't castrated him yet. It'd serve him right though. Heart in his throat, he pulls away from her with panic flooding his brain.

'I am so sorry,' he bursts out. 'I'm so sorry.  I don't know what happened, except the fact that I'm an idiot, and fuck, I'm terribly sorry-'

River stares at him with wide unblinking eyes and he prepares himself for the slap that surely is coming. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then River closes the gap between them and kisses him. He's too stunned to comprehend what is happening - _really what is happening?_ \- until she grabs lapels of his jacket and tugs him closer to her. This time she’s the one kissing him and oh boy, this is definitely different from the previous awkward kiss. It’s hot and demanding, full of desire and longing. It feels like River has been waiting ages to kiss him like that. He’s not sure if it’s the truth or just his wishful thinking but he’s not going to wonder about it right now. River’s tongue licks at his lips and he eagerly opens them, welcoming the taste of her in his mouth. She tastes of champagne that she drank tonight, but there’s something else there, something much more darker and carnal – a taste that makes his mouth water. He presses her closer to him, running his fingers across her back. River sighs into his mouth and melts into him. She fits him perfectly, as if she was designed for him to hold her like that. Gods, look at him. He starts to sound like Nicolas Sparks.

A loud laugh coming from the party sobers him up slightly. He breaks the kiss and realises where they are. They can’t stay here, in the plain sight, they have to move somewhere much more secluded, somewhere- It’d be really easier to think more clearly if River stopped pressing kisses against his jaw and if her hand wasn’t in his hair, nails gently scratching against his neck. Then he sees it – a small alcove, a few feet away from the door. He gently pushes River and starts walking them towards the alcove. It takes them far more time than it normally would, but there’s so much kissing and touching to do, and really, time is not the boss of them. Unless someone sees them, but with River’s lips hot under his, he can’t really care about that.

‘Oh, look at that,’ River says breathlessly as her back hits the wall. ‘Looks like you do have a bit of bad boy in you.’

‘Maybe,’ he admits when he stops pressing kisses to her neck. His hands are slowly bunching the fabric of her skirt and revealing the smooth skin of her legs. ‘And what about you? Would you like to have a bit of bad boy in you?’

‘That was terrible,’ River laughs, but it quickly turns into a quiet moan as his fingers trace slow patterns on the inside of her thighs. ‘But you’re very, _very_ lucky because I’m incredibly fond of bad puns.’

As she says this, she pulls him closer and kisses him again. The kiss alone is enough to make his blood rush through his body and send it to a very specific part of his anatomy. As River kisses him, her hands start fumbling with his belt buckle. He presses his hands harder against her thighs, slowly inching them higher and higher-

‘John, are you there?’ Jack’s voice booms from the direction of the door. Both River and he freeze and stare at each other in panic. If Jack comes here and sees them like that... Well, he’d probably like to join them. That’s for sure. And right now, he absolutely doesn’t feel like sharing River with anyone – not matter how barbaric it sounds. ‘John, seriously. Are you here? I know you hate these things, but you were supposed to give a speech this year! I’ve been looking for you for 10 minutes and I’ll let you know that there’s a cute guy waiting to buy me a cocktail. And by _buy me a cocktail_ , I mean-‘

‘Okay, okay, I’m here!’ He exclaims. ‘Just... 5 more minutes. I’ve been practising here. Just give me 5 more minutes.’

‘Fine, whatever. But you know, everyone is pretty much sloshed at this point, so they really won’t care what you’re saying,’ Jack says and he can hear that he’s going back to the main hall. ‘Oh, and have you seen River? I can’t find her anywhere.’

‘No idea where she is,’ he replies and tries to keep laughter out of his voice. When he hears the terrace doors closing after Jack, he gently rubs his hand over River’s thigh. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers and presses a small kiss to her lips. ‘I forgot about the damn speech. I have to do it, really.’

‘That’s... I wanted to say that’s fine, but it really is not fine,’ River sighs dramatically, but he can see a ghost of smile on her lips. ‘I just hope that you don’t mean to use these 5 minutes to finish what we started, because _that_ would be far away from fine. And probably far from satisfying.’

‘No,’ he laughs quietly as he breathes in the scent of her skin. ‘I think I need this time to get myself under control, don’t you agree?’

‘I don’t know, I rather like you like that,’ River says, but helps him to straighten his clothes, wipe her lipstick from his face and more or less manage his hair.

‘After the party, okay?’ He says once he’s more or less presentable. ‘I’ll find you. Just... I’ll find you.’

He stumbles through his speech, even manages to get a few laughs that are not on his expense, but during this time his mind is somewhere else entirely. In his head, he's constantly replaying what happened between him and River just a few moments before. They kissed and they probably would have done a lot more if they hadn't been interrupted. He's not sure if he's grateful for that or not. Granted, this is not how he imagined his first kiss with River, but...

(And yes, he had imagined kissing River before. If that makes him a besotted idiot,  so be it).

His eyes keep searching the crowd for River, but he can't find her anywhere. It feels just like the beginning of the ball, but now he has even more reasons to find her. They need to talk. And, hopefully, finish what they started back there in the garden. But they definitely should discuss what just happened between them. Although, if Rivet wanted to screw the talk and screw him instead, he'd be more than willing. Actually, he's more than willing to do whatever River wants and expects of him - now and in the foreseeable future.

The thought that he may have a chance for a future with River is both exhilarating and terrifying. If a few months ago someone told him that he will be thinking about River and himself in terms of future, he would probably get offended. But now he can't stop thinking about it - River and he, _together_. He doesn't just mean sex - although that would be amazing too - but everything. He wants everything from her - everything and anything she's willing to give him. Damn, he sounds like he’s head over heels in love with River.

He _is_ in love with River.

The realisation hits him suddenly and he does what any other man would do in a situation like that: he giggles. People standing next to him turn their heads and look at him like he just lost his mind. He probably has, but he doesn’t care about it right now – he needs to find River and tell her. He rushes through the crowd, looking around and hoping to spot her somewhere. He needs to talk to her – really, properly talk, tell her everything... Maybe not everything-everything and not right now, but he needs to see her and talk with her, and hold her hand-

Two hours later he still hasn’t found her. The party is nearly over – there are only a few couples swaying on the dance floor and people from the cleaning team are already swiping the floor, cleaning the tables and picking up broken glass. He’s been walking around this place for hours now, but River is nowhere to be found. It’s like she disappeared into thin air. Maybe she felt sick and had to go home, he thinks as he walks out of the Hall. He tries his best not to feel uneasy about her sudden disappearance. It probably doesn’t mean anything. He’ll call her tomorrow.

He calls her the next day, multiple times, but she never picks up. At 8pm he gets so desperate that he goes to her flat to check on her. He knocks on the door but they remain closed, even though he’s sure he hears steps behind it. Well then.

On the Monday morning, he appears at her office feeling utterly exhausted. He hasn’t slept a wink at night, worrying about River and what her silence might mean. He balances two cups of coffee in his hand as he walks past River’s secretary and completely ignores her ‘ _Miss Song is busy, she asked not to be interrupted!_ ’ shout. He straightens his shoulders and walks in her office without even knocking. If River is really busy and he’ll interrupt her, he’s ready to face her wrath.

River is sitting at her desk, staring blankly through the window. She looks a bit pale and tired, dark circles under her eyes suggest a poorly-slept night.

‘Hi, honey. I’m home,’ he says loudly and River’s head snaps in his direction.

‘What are you doing here?’ She asks flatly and eyes him as he nears her desk.

‘Bringing you coffee,’ he snorts and hopes she can’t see how his hands are shaking when he’s putting her cup in front of her. ‘Drink up, Song. You look like you need it.’

‘How nice of you to say that,’ she replies without looking at him. ‘Thank you, but I already had my morning coffee.’

'You've been avoiding me,' he states quietly.

'Don't be ridiculous,' River shakes her head.

'I have called you yesterday. Multiple times. You never picked up.'

'I was hungover, so I turned off my phone,' River shrugs. 'Now if you excuse me, I have things to do. So do you if I'm not mistaken.'

'It's funny because usually when you have a hangover, you call and ask me to bring you tomato juice and something disgusting to eat,' he says despite the fact that River seems to be eager to get rid of him. 'Why not yesterday?'

'Too hungover to use the phone,' River days with a wide smile - one that he knows is fake. 'But I promise to call next time I feel like a living dead.'

'We need to talk,' he says slowly, ignoring how his stomach slowly fills with dread.

'Talk about what?' River says, making a show of shuffling papers on her desk.

'About what happened at the ball,' he replies softly. River raises her head and stares at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

'Nothing happened at the ball,' she finally says.

'Nothing?' He snorts in disbelief and anger. 'Really? I have a rather vibrant memory of what happened there.'

‘You want me to tell you what happened? Fine. We were drunk and nearly shagged against the wall,’ River says, her voice slightly raised. ‘That’s what happened.’

‘And don’t you think we should talk about that?’ He raises his chin and hopes he won’t start blushing now. ‘It meant-‘

‘It meant nothing,’ River says flatly and he feels like she just pummelled his heart into a bloody pulp. She looks at him without any expression on her face – just a blank and empty stare, devoid of any emotions. ‘It was a mistake, that’s all.’

‘A mistake,’ he repeats and swallows over a lump in his throat. He didn’t expect River to jump into his arms and proclaim her undying love for him, but he never expected her to call what happened between them a mistake.

‘We were drunk and affected by the party. It was nothing serious,’ River says quickly as if she just wants to get it over with. ‘I mean... This would’ve happened if anyone else had been in my place.’

_No, it wouldn’t have_ , he wants to say, but his throat is too tight to even utter a word. He wants to tell River that she’s wrong – that she’s the only one who makes him feel like that, the only one who makes him lose control and do reckless things. She’s the only one who makes him _want_ all of this. It has never happened before and he doubts it will ever happen again.

‘I just don’t want it to affect our, uhm, relationship,’ River says and he realises she’s been talking the entire time, but he hasn’t heard any of it. Maybe it’s better.

‘Relationship,’ he repeats dumbly and looks up at her. River is staring at him with wide eyes, looking as if she wants nothing more but escape from this room. He understands this wish.

‘Our working relationship,’ River clears her throat. ‘We need to be able to work together and any complications could affect the city’s politics. _And_...,’ she hesitates for a second and his heart starts to beat painfully in his chest, ‘I wouldn’t like to lose your friendship.’

That’s what he has with her. A few weeks ago, he’d be happy to know that she considers him her friend, but today it’s not enough. He wants more than just friendship: he wants to court her, take her out to small restaurants with great food, he wants to travel and see the wonders of the world with her, he wants to cuddle in bed with her on rainy Sunday mornings. But River doesn’t want any of that and he will respect that. And since she doesn’t see him as a potential partner, he’ll take what he can get: he’ll keep on being her friend.

‘Friends,’ he says and licks his lips. ‘Yes, I- I agree with you.’

He doesn’t know how he managed to say these words without choking on them, but here they are: hanging in the air between River and him, sealing their fate.

‘Really? I’m- I’m glad,’ River looks at him with surprise on her face. There’s also something else, an expression he can define, but it’s gone before he can even blink. ‘So it’s forgotten?’

‘Sure, it’s forgotten,’ he forces a smile on his face and stands up. ‘You’re right. We should put it all behind us. It didn’t mean anything after all.’

River opens her mouth to say something else, but he’s already scurrying to the door, mumbling some excuses about work and projects awaiting him. He needs to get out of River’s office, to be alone with his own thoughts. He’s about to open the door when River’s voice stops him.

‘John?’ She asks softly, almost shyly. ‘Are we... Are we fine?’

He turns around slowly and once again places a smile on his face.

‘Yes,’ he nods his head. ‘Of course we’re fine.’

 

___

And they are fine. They really are: they work on the Silence project together, River still tries to make London’s people miserable and he still tries to stop her from doing that. They still eat breakfasts and lunches together, they discuss books and movies, they behave inappropriately during city council’s meetings.

It’s all just like it used to be, it really is, except-

Something has changed. He can’t help but notice that River no longer sits as close to him as she used to, she no longer fixes his bowtie for him or rolls her eyes when he trips over something. She’s less flirty with him and she almost stopped calling him sweetie. He should be glad about that, but the truth is that he misses all of it terribly. And it’s not just River who behaves differently. He knows that also his behaviour has changed around her. He no longer touches her: no more bopping her nose or placing his hand on the small of her back when they walk next to each other. He stopped coming over to her place at weekends and texting her random things throughout the day. It’s like something has shifted between them and he has no idea how to fix it. He’s afraid that there’s no way to fix it and this is how they’ll remain: slowly drifting away from each other.

When he tells the Ponds what happened (without any details, just that he and River didn’t work out), Rory pats him sympathetically on the shoulder and Amy plies him with enough alcohol to kill every single of his brain cells. A week later she sets him up with one of her friends – despite his protests.

‘You need to get out there, John,’ Amy says while she digs through his clothes, trying to find a bowtie that matches his shirt. ‘River and you didn’t work out, tough. You need to get over it, because I can’t stand your moping anymore.’

‘I do not mope!’ He exclaims and sighs heavily. ‘Look, Amy. I appreciate your help, I really do, but I don’t want to date anyone right now.’

‘It’s not dating,’ Amy huffs and throws a piece of fabric at him. ‘Try this one. What was I saying? Oh, right: it’s not dating, you’re just meeting this girl for coffee. That’s all. If you two click – that’s great. If not – you’ll spend an evening outside your mancave.’

‘It’s not a mancave,’ he mumbles and puts on the bowtie she chose for him. ‘And even if it was a mancave, would it be so terrible? Mancave is almost like a Batcave.’

‘And you are almost Batman,’ Amy rolls her eyes. ‘Except you don’t have the strength, cool gadgets, money, a great mansion and a butler. And don’t even get me started on the looks!’

‘You’re awful,’ he says in a wounded voice. ‘Why do I keep you around?’

‘It’s Rory and I who keep you around,’ Amy says with a smile. ‘We do that because no one else wanted you. Now, not another word,’ she shakes her head and straightens his bowtie. ‘Go or you’ll be late for your date.’

‘It’s not a date,’ he exclaims as he grabs a bouquet of daffodils and heads to the coffee shop where he’s going to meet his not-date. 40 minutes later he’s almost willing to call Amy and tell her she was right. The girl he’s meeting – Rose – is nice and lovely, she makes him smile and it’s easy to talk with her. There’s no awkwardness between them – their conversation flows smoothly, they laugh at each other’s jokes and for the first time in a few weeks he feels – if not happy – a little less miserable. Rose asks him about his job and what it feels like to be a hero, since she’s not one. In turn, she complains about her job at a shopping centre, talks a bit about her ex-boyfriend and her mom. It’s all so wonderfully ordinary that he can’t help but feel a bit enchanted by it. There’s no chasing baddies, saving the city or coming up with evil schemes and for the first time it occurs to him that life like this – simple, normal life – may not be as bad as he’s always imagined it to be. Maybe that’s what growing up feels like.

He’s slowly gathering his courage to ask her if she wants to go for a walk with him when he notices that River is ordering her coffee and talking with Steve the barista. One look at her is enough to get his blood pounding in his ears and forget about everything around him. He must be staring at her, but he can’t help it. Meeting with Rose at his and River’s coffee shop – because over the last few months it has become _theirs_ , whether he likes it or not – probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but he never expected River to be here on a Saturday afternoon. As if feeling his gaze, River turns around and spots him and her face brightens in a smile and she looks like she wants to join him – until she spots Rose. Her smile freezes for a moment and something passes over her face, but it’s gone before he can define what it is. She waves her hand and sends another smile his way, and quickly leaves the cafe. He stares at her retreating form and wishes that things were different. He wishes he could be sitting with her right now, sharing childhood stories over coffee and cake. But it will never happen.

‘Hey, that was River Song, right?’ Rose asks in an excited whisper. ‘You work with her, don’t you? How is she? Come on, spill!’

He smiles and starts talking about River – about some of her ridiculous ideas, how many of them he’s stopped before she could put them into motion; he tells how respected she is, how everyone loves working with her and how much he enjoys being her co-worker. Rose listens to him intently and he feels a bit better, being able to talk about River with someone. He’s about to tell Rose how River and he got thrown out of a city council meeting, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from River and he reads it quickly, almost greedily.

_‘She’s cute! Good luck with her, sweetie! xx’_

Something heavy settles in his chest as he reads the text a few more times. _Good luck_. Right.

He needs to move on, doesn’t he? And is there a better time than now?

‘Fancy a walk?’ He asks Rose as he looks up from his phone’s screen. ‘We could grab a milkshake, I know a really great place.’

Rose accepts happily and takes his hand as they leave the coffee shop.

When later this evening he drops her at her place, she tells him that she’d like to see him again. He nods his head, smiles and presses a soft kiss to her cheek.

He never calls her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments and kudos! they mean a lot :). 
> 
> (there are 2-3 more chapters left in case you're wondering. I'll plan to have them up until the end of next week - unless something happens.)
> 
>  
> 
> chapter title from 'monster' by Mumford and sons.


	6. everything is doomed

He’s so tired.

He’s so very tired.

He climbs the stairs, one after another, trying not to think about everything that happened today. He tries to block these thoughts, all the images and memories, but it’s difficult when the smell of smoke still clings to his clothes and when blood is still under his nails. But these will wash off, he knows that. His memories... He’s not sure he will ever be able to done anything about them.

He finally stops and knocks on the heavy door in front of him. For a few moments no one answers and he wonders that maybe it’s too late, but he is not leaving until she opens the damn door. He knocks on it again, this time banging his fist against the smooth wooden surface.

Silence, then hurried steps against the floor, fumbling with the lock. The door opens and the warm light from the hall nearly blinds him. He blinks and pushes past the person standing in the threshold. Without saying a word, he walks further into the apartment until he reaches the living room where he drops on the couch with a tired sigh. He closes his eyes as he listens to the faint sound of closing door and locks being turned. The sound of footsteps echoes in the quietness of the apartment and he dreads the moment when the silence will be broken.

‘John,’ River’s voice sounds calm, but he can hear the slight tremor in it. His heart skips in satisfaction at that. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same question,’ he says quietly. His voice feels raw and like it hasn’t been used in a while, which is weird because only a few hours ago he was shouting commands at the top of his lungs. ‘Shouldn’t you be out there, celebrating your victory? Your minions certainly are.’

He finally opens his eyes and looks at her. She’s standing in front of him, staring at him with a carefully guarded expression. In the yellow light of the room her hair shine like a halo and for a second it’s difficult not to think she’s an angel. He nearly laughs at that. River is anything but an angel and maybe that’s the main problem. Maybe he’d tried too hard to see only the good in her and he forgot that she is not good. And it turns out she’s just as rotten as the rest of them.

‘John, I- I’m not sure...,’ River starts quietly, but he interrupts her without letting her finish.

‘Please, don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you,’ he says angrily. ‘I’m talking about what happened this afternoon. Fire in the shopping centre. Ringing any bells?’

‘I didn’t start it if that’s what you’re implying,’ River replies defensively. ‘I don’t do things like that, you know that.’

‘Oh, of course you don’t do things like that,’ he says mockingly. ‘You never do. You just do these little pesky things to annoy people, don’t you? It’s perfectly harmless.’

River stares at him without saying a word and he notices that her eyes look slightly red and puffy, like she’s been crying. But it’s impossible. River Song doesn’t cry and she certainly wouldn’t cry over something as... trivial as this.

‘The fire in the shopping mall started because of an issue with the electrical installation,’ he stands up and starts walking around the room. ‘We’re waiting for the final expertise, but they seem to think that someone or something might’ve exposed it and caused it to malfunction.’

‘And?’ River says through gritted teeth.

‘You were the one messing with the installation,’ he says and turns to face her. ‘Your beautiful stunt two weeks ago, remember?’

He runs fingers through his hair as he recalls what exactly happened a fortnight ago. It’s been yet another one of River’s pranks that had caused absolute havoc. Somehow she’d managed to mess with the electrical installation in the centre and re-route the signals. If you turned the light on in a toilet, lights would turn off in a store at the end of mall. If you turned the lights off in a store on the ground floor, they’d remain turned on, but lights in a store 20 feet away would get dimmed. And so on and so on. He’d gotten called to the scene and was asked to fix it immediately. It had taken him quite a while to figure out the algorithm River had used and find it in the system, but he finally succeeded. It’d been fun to deal with it – it had been challenging and far from easy to solve, but he’s always loved puzzles like this one.

He’d never expected it to turn into a tragedy.

Today, around 1pm a fire started in a small store in the middle of the mall. The mall was full of people: both people who worked there and customers. The fire brigade arrived a few minutes after the first call and the evacuation started immediately. Almost everyone was saved.

 _Almost_ is the keyword here.

When one of the firemen told him they’re suspecting foul play and someone destroying the electrical installation on purpose, his mind jumped to River straight away. And it all just clicked in his head and he felt like an absolute idiot. How could he have been stupid enough to trust her?

‘Is there anything else I should be worrying about?’ He says after a brief moment of silence. ‘Will any other of your pranks go wrong in the near future? Is it how it works – you create something that’s harmless at first, but then it blows up and has tragic consequences? How long have you been planning this? Because let me tell you – it’s your masterpiece,’ he says bitterly. He can see how pale River is and how angry she’s looking, but that doesn’t stop him from talking some more. ‘Two kids died in that fire, River. Two kids. The media and your fraction... They’re celebrating your victory. Shouldn’t you be preparing for an interview now? I’m sure you’ve already gotten at least a dozen of invitati-‘

The slap comes out of nowhere. He’s been so focused on his anger that he hasn’t noticed River coming closer to him. She’s standing right in front of him as he’s rubbing his cheek: she’s furious, staring at him with wide eyes and mouth twisted in a scowl. If he was less angry himself, he’d probably take a step back and try to calm down. But he’s too far gone now – the events of today and of the last few months: his initial annoyance with River and then falling for her – it all rolls into one. He can’t back out now. He won’t do it.

‘Touched a sore spot, did I?’ He sneers.

‘Don’t you dare,’ River says quietly and he realises she’s doing everything she can not to lash out at him. ‘I would never do something like that. I’d never... Especially not children. You know that.’

‘Do I?’ He shrugs. ‘How can I know that, if I don’t even know you?’

River takes a step back and quietly gasps like he just hit her. Her lips part in disbelief and the same emotion is shining in her eyes. She looks hurt and suddenly he feels like an absolute jerk for saying that. Hell, not only _that_ , but everything he said this evening.

The truth is that he _does_ know River and he knows that she'd never do something like that. He doesn't understand how he could even come up with this idea. When he thinks about it now - staring at River who looks like she's on the verge of crying - he realises how ridiculous this whole notion is. River would never hurt anyone on purpose and she would never plan something like that. Fuck. He really is an idiot.

'River,' he starts and takes a small step towards her. 'I-'

'Don't,' she shakes her head. Her voice sounds strangely dull and devoid of emotions. 'I think... You've said enough. You should go. There's no point in staying in a flat of a stranger, it's there?' She starts at him for a second with cold eyes. 'Just go.'

She turns around and walks in the direction of her bedroom. He's standing in the middle of her living room, feeling like a massive loser. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he _should_ say, but he can't find the words to express them. He closes his eyes and exhales deeply.

'Why had you done that?' He asks. River's footsteps stop and when he opens his eyes he sees her back - tense as if she is waiting for another attack.

'I told you, I didn't do anything,' she says. She sounds tired.

'No, I don't mean today,' he shakes his head. ‘I mean... All these years ago. Why did you choose this?’ He waves his hands around. ‘This life. This career.’

‘There are tests, you know that. They show you what you should pick,’ River says cautiously. ‘It was that or an ordinary life and I-‘

‘No,’ he interrupts her. ‘I read your files. You didn’t score as a villain. You scored as both: a villain and a hero. Same amount of points. You could’ve chosen differently. Why didn’t you?’

He wants to know the answer to that. He needs to know the answer to that. Maybe then he’ll understand River. Maybe once he knows and understands everything, he’ll stop wishing that things could be different.

‘Not everyone has the luxury of choice,’ River says quietly and he opens his mouth to ask what exactly she means by it, but she speaks again. ‘The funny thing is that I’m not the only one who got that result. Isn’t it funny, John?’

For a second he’s so shocked that he can’t speak. How did she-

‘I see... Still not talking about that?’ River smiles sadly. ‘At least I didn’t go to the lengths of scrapping this little fact from my records. Unlike you.’

‘How did you-,’ he licks his dry lips. His vision is swimming and he’s not sure if it’s because of how exhausted he’s feeling or because of the revelation River just dropped on him. ‘Who told you?’

‘No one,’ River responds and looks at him. ‘No one had to tell me. Observing you and reading about your achievements was enough for me to recognise this kind of behaviour. Then I did some additional research. I must admit, you did a pretty good job of scrapping all the information from your records. Took me a few days to access it.’

He takes a deep breath. When he arrived here, he never expected this conversation to take such turn.

Yes, what River just said is true - in his second Abilities Test he got the same amount of points in the villain and hero category. He chose to became a hero and he decided to scrape all the information regarding his original score. He might’ve falsify his results to make it look like he’d scored as a hero, but until now no one seemed to care or notice that.

‘One thing makes me curious,’ River continues as she comes closer to him. He can’t help but stare at her, completely transfixed on every word that comes from her mouth. ‘Why did you bury it? Were you ashamed? Scared? I don’t understand any of this.’

‘There’s nothing to understand,’ he replies gruffly. ‘It has no meaning now. I became a hero and that’s what matters. That result... It doesn’t change anything.’

‘Really?’ River’s laugh is short but it chills him to the bone. ‘Demon’s Run, five years ago. You endangered lives of all the people in that building just to prove the Master that you can outsmart him.’

‘I saved their lives!’ He says angrily.

‘That you did,’ River nods her head. ‘But you could’ve done it from your office, using your computer. You didn’t have to break into that military base, you didn’t have to try and manually defuse these bombs. You didn’t have to taunt the Master and rub in his face that he lost. But you wanted to, didn’t you? You wanted to show him that you’re the best. But most of all... You wanted to show the public that you’re the true hero. You wanted to be adored.’

‘That’s not true!’ He bangs his fist against the wall. ‘That’s not-‘

‘How many people died then?’ River asks suddenly and all the words leave him. ‘Three. And they died because you showed up there and got into empty rhetoric with the Master.’

‘But the rest of them survived,’ he says, hoping that his voice doesn’t break.

‘They did,’ River nods. ‘But at what price? Three of their co-workers were shot in front of them. They were tortured and... All because you wanted to be a saviour. And it wasn’t just once. Canary Wharf. The Asylum. The Byzantium. The-‘

‘Stop. Just... Stop,’ he says shakily. Every event River mentions, replays in his head. He doesn’t need to be reminded of these. He doesn’t want to be reminded of them. Did he win? He sure did. But sometimes the costs were too high and not worth his triumph. The worst thing is that River is right: he likes to play the saviour. He likes to be the hero and sometimes his need to be adored is stronger than the need to actually help people. He tries to fight with that, but he doesn’t always succeed. Normally, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone – even himself – but sometimes his pride and ego take the best of him. And there are consequences. Always. ‘Why are you telling me all of that? Is it your idea of revenge?’

River stares at him sadly for a few seconds before she replies.

‘You insist on dividing people into bad and good guys. If someone is a villain, well, they can’t be good, can they? There’s just no way, right?’ She takes a deep breath. ‘But have you ever thought that people are more than that? That we, both heroes and villains... We all have potential for both evilness and goodness? Maybe... Maybe you and I aren’t that different after all, John.’

She looks at him as if she expects him to speak, to say something, to say that one thing that would make everything right. But he can’t. He’s at loss for words. There are so many thoughts tumbling in his head at this moment, but he can’t focus on any one of them. There are so many things he’d like to say: apologies and explanations, but he can’t vocalise any of them. River stares at him and with every second, the disappointment on her face is more and more prominent. It breaks his heart to see her like that and it makes him even more miserable to know that he was the one who caused her that pain.

‘You know, I thought... I hoped-,’ River starts but she shakes her head and presses her lips in a thin line as if to stop words from escaping. ‘Never mind. Just... Let yourself out.’

And then she walks to her bedroom, leaving him alone in the dull silence of her apartment.

 

___

He is an idiot.

Many people have said that over the years, but he’s never thought that they may be right. Until now.

It’s 5am, he’s in a hotel room in New York and all he wants to do is to bang his head against the nearest vertical surface until nothing but a bloody pulp remains. Okay, first thing he wants and needs to do is go back to London, find River and apologise to her, but mashing his brain into a puddle is the very next thing on his to-do list.

He’s been walking around the hotel room for nearly an hour now, ever since he got back from the city’s archive. Officially, he wasn’t there. He might’ve arrived at New York at 11pm and the archive might’ve been closed, and he might’ve found another entrance to get inside without consent. Technically, he broke in. But he tried his best not to leave any traces and not to make a mess, so hopefully no one will notice. He just needed information, okay? He needed it right there and then – and he got it.

Ever since he’d left River’s apartment that fateful evening, their last conversation has been stuck in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, reliving every single second of it, but one fragment especially stood out for him.

_Not everyone has the luxury of choice._

These words stuck to him and he couldn’t shake them off. What had River meant by that? They do have a choice – every single person can choose a life they want. Unless there was something he didn’t know about River... And then it struck him: he really didn’t know much about her. Sure, he knew how she likes her coffee and tea, that she hates liquorice but loves Skittles, that she can handle every alcohol except for cider. He knew so many little and everyday things about her, but he knew nothing about her personal past. Even her files have the barest minimum info about her childhood: where she was raised and results of her Abilities Tests.

He decided that he wants to need more. And that’s how he found himself in New York – the very city River had grew up in. Well, not precisely. The Greystark Hall Orphanage where River had presumably stayed until she turned 18, had been placed a few kilometres outside New York. Besides, it doesn’t exist anymore – it was demolished a few years ago and a shiny shopping centre was raised in its place. However, all the records from this place were transferred to city’s archive. Which is why he decided to go there as soon as he arrived at New York.

As it turns out, River was right: not everyone has a choice and it seems that she was talking from the experience. The orphanage she’d been raised at was closed over 20 years ago. The person running it – known as Madame Kovarian – had disappeared shortly before that. He wondered why that happened – the orphanage looked like a good place for kids to be and all the reports from the ‘60s, ‘70s and early ‘80s sang only praises. However, in the late ‘80s, someone started wondering why all the kids who had been raised there, always chose the career of a villain. Things like that just don’t happen – sure, in one district of a city or in a school you can have more villains than heroes, but there’ll never be just villains or just heroes. It’s not how it works – every statistician will tell you that.

This little phenomenon had gotten attention of an _ex-journalist-turned-private-detective_ , Canton Everett Delaware. He’d stumbled upon records of a few people raised in the The Greystark Hall Orphanage and noticed the reoccurring pattern. He’d asked a few questions, interviewed a few people – people who had been raised there, former employees – and from that he got a pretty good impression of what had been happening there. Madame Kovarian had been training the children to be evil. She’d been a part of the mob and indirectly profited from the kids getting into the villains fraction. What Canton had discovered was incredibly disturbing: the kids had been brainwashed to act as Kovarian wished, they were deprived of food and sleep and punished if they hadn’t behaved accordingly. Most of kids with Abilities, once they had chosen the villain career path, sooner or later joined the mob and ended up in prison. He bets that once again, the choice had been made for them.

His stomach clenches when he thinks about what these kids must have been through. They were just kids, all alone in this world. Why would anyone want to hurt them like that? The very thought that River had lived in this place makes him livid - not just with the people who had run the Orphanage, but also with himself. He said so many terrible and hurtful words to her, when he should have known better. River might be a villain, but she's not evil - he thinks about all the times when she stopped to have a chat with little boys and girls who admired her or how often she appeared at various birthday parties just to make some kids smile. Shit - she was the one who came up with the Silence project. It all makes sense now - she wanted to make sure that no kid will ever experience what she had been forced to go through.

_Fuck._

He really is an idiot. The answers have been right in front of him the whole time and yet he doubted and accused her.

He will go back home and ask - no, beg - for her forgiveness. If she does forgive him... Well, if. That's a big obstacle to overcome and he'll wait with any plans until she decides on that. He'll go to get straight from the airport and tell her what he found out. And then... We'll see what happens. But now he needs a few hours of sleep.

Once he arrives at Heathrow - 14 hours later, tired and sweaty, he knows it's too late. He is too late. Every single newspaper reports the same thing – ‘ _River Song resigns from her position as the residing super villain’_.

 _This can't be true_ , he thinks as he races through the city in a taxi. But the radio station playing in the car plays River's speech in which she politely says that although she enjoyed her time in London, as of today she resigns from her position. She thanks Harriet and Jack for cooperation, she mentions him and says that it was an honour to work against him. The taxi driver keeps saying things like _'it is a shame to let her go, she was a good villain, she had her rules, there are no more people like that.._.'

 _This can't be true_ , he thinks as he races up the stairs to River's apartment _._ There are procedures and contracts, she can't just leave like that. She’d have to get Harriet’s approval and talk with him, inform her fraction... It takes time. Unless... She’s started working on that some time ago.

 _This can't be true_ , he thinks as he opens the door and finds her flat emptied and devoid of her presence.

 _This is true,_ he realises with sorrow tightening around his throat.

He is too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
>  
> 
> chapter title from 'I love you, honeybear' by Father John Misty.


	7. and nothing will be spared

Sooner than he’d like, everything goes back to normal.

He gets up in the mornings, gets his coffee at the coffee shop, goes to his office and works the whole day, making sure that the citizens stay safe and happy. He meets with the Ponds and even goes on a few more dates that Amy arranges for him.

Everything’s fine.

He tries to contact River, but all his efforts come to naught – he can’t find her anywhere. It’s like she dropped from the face of the earth. Or maybe she simply chooses to ignore him. He really hopes it’s not the latter.

A month after River’s resignation, they choose a new residing villain. Even though he knows that no one will meet standards set by River, he doesn’t say anything. During the interview he sits quietly, smiles politely at the candidates and asks them a question from time to time. He feels like everything is happening around him and he’s not really involved in any of this. But he doesn’t care. Not anymore.

The man they choose for the super villain position – Walter Simeon – is in his mid-fifties, with the air of ruthlessness around him. He is polite, well-mannered like a gentleman from Victorian times, but there’s also something a bit unnerving about him. His eyes are always cold and devoid of any emotions. But then again, he doesn’t have to be friends with Simeon. They have to work together, that’s all. When he clasps the man’s hand and congratulates him on being chosen, a small shiver runs through him at Simeon’s unpleasant stare. The feeling disappears as quickly as it appeared and he pushes the slowly budding fear deep inside.

Everything is going to be just fine. He’s sure of that.

 

___

He couldn’t have been more wrong about Simeon, he thinks as he slowly climbs the stairs of the Villains Headquarter. It’s quite a climb, since he has to get to the rooftop and can’t use the elevator as the power was cut off. Along with the power went the heating, he thinks bitterly as he clasps his hands together, trying to warm them up.

Power shortage. Everything thanks to Simeon.

The guy turned out to be far worse than The Master. He is just as ruthless and hungry of success but he lacks The Master’s madness. Simeon’s mind is cool and perfectly organised. He comes up with an idea that is outrageous and nearly unbelievable, but he somehow makes it work. But he doesn’t waste his time on things that make people angry, oh no. Instead he focuses on things that make people die. Simeon is cruel and it seems like he’s the type of a man that wants to see the world destroyed and burnt.

He’s been trying to stop him – and many times he succeeded, but it looks like he lost the ultimate battle. Simeon managed to completely cut London off from the rest of civilisation. This madman somehow managed to create sentient clouds that responded to his orders. And his orders were: _make it snow_.

At first, everyone was delighted. Snow in late November? Snow that doesn’t melt away after a day? Amazing! He himself was glad that London turned white and magical: he could organise snowball fights in parks and take kids to sleigh parties. He was so caught up in that that he never noticed one small detail: the snow never fell outside London. While London was covered in it, the rest of the country was grey and muddy. When he finally noticed it, it was too late. London was practically buried under snow that never melts.

He tried to override the system than controlled the clouds. When that failed, he tried breaking into Simeon’s quarter and reprogramming the system from inside. When that failed, he tried to smash the computer that stored all the information with a hammer. But nothing worked. For nearly a week now, London has looked and felt like it was transported to The North Pole. Every day, the snow causes more and more damage – destroying electrical installations, causing rooftops to collapse and blocking the roads. The supplies are slowly getting short, the power and heat is limited and since every single of his plans failed, he needs to do something he despises – talk with Simeon. He’s not sure it’s going to help with anything – you can’t reason with this man, but he has to try.

As he walks through the door leading to the rooftop, he can already see Simeon standing with his back turned towards him. He’s wearing a heavy fur coat and a top hat – an outfit that would looks ridiculous on anyone else, but Simeon makes it look menacing.

‘Walter,’ he says as he slowly approaches the city’s villain. It’s windy up here and he tries not to shiver. ‘You wanted to see me?’

‘Actually, I think it was you who wanted to me, John,’ Simeon’s voice cuts through the wind. ‘I have no interest in you. Well then. What do you require?’

‘You know what I want,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘Make the snow stop.’

‘No,’ Simeon says and stares at him. ‘I won’t.’

‘People have died and they’ll continue to do so if you don’t stop that,’ he says angrily. Simeon stares at him without any expression on his face.

‘So?’ He finally replies in a bored tone. ‘That’s kind of the point.’

‘Don’t you care?’ He asks even though he already knows the answer. Simeon doesn’t care.

‘I don’t give a damn about these people,’ Simeon says. ‘It’s not about them anyway. It’s about you.’

‘Me? How is that about me?’ He manages to croak out.

‘I want to... Destroy you,’ Simeon says and stares at him with unblinking eyes.

‘Destroy me? What? Why?’ He stumbles over his words. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I am here to destroy you,’ Simeon repeats slowly. ‘I’ll take everything you love from you: your work, your reputation, your friends... Maybe even your life.’

‘But why?’ He whispers in shock. When he came here, he thought they’re going to negotiate and talk, try to work things out. He never expected something like _that_.

‘Because this is how it works. You are the hero and I’m the villain. Only one of us can survive,’ Simeon responds calmly. He looks at the man and for the first time he notices madness in his eyes. It’s not the kind of madness that clouds your mind – it’s one that makes you see things clearer and sharper. Simeon looks at him with such insanity and hatred that for the first time in his life, he’s terrified.

‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ he says slowly and takes a small step away from Simeon. ‘It doesn’t... We don’t have to be enemies.’

‘We do,’ Simeon barks out and follows him as he walks backward away from him. ‘This is how our world works, John. It’s a shame you haven’t noticed it yet.’

‘No, Walter, listen...,’ he tries to come up with something, but his head is empty. He’s no idea what to say to calm Simeon down and make him stop. He takes another step backwards and feels the edge of the building under his feet. Shit. This is definitely not good. ‘Simeon... Let’s talk.’

‘I think we’ve talked enough,’ Simeon smiles and looks at his feet. ‘Oh, John. I’m sorry, but it looks like you found yourself in quite a situation. The question is,’ Simeon says as he puts his hands on his shoulders, ‘do I keep you here or do I push you?’

He swallows in panic. Simeon’s hands are weighing heavily on his shoulders and he knows that if the man decides to push him off, he stands no chance. He tries to take a step forward, but Simeon is blocking his path.

‘You don’t want to kill me,’ he says hurriedly. ‘If you do that - if you kill me right here and now, that’s it. That’s the end. You won’t be able to humiliate me and make me suffer. You wanted to destroy me, so do that – destroy me. But not just yet.’

Simeon stares at him for what feels like hours, but in fact is just a few seconds. Finally, he takes his hands off of his shoulders.

‘You’re right, John,’ Simeon says with a tight smile as he takes a step backwards, making a space for him to move forward. ‘I do want to destroy you. Perhaps it’s too early now.’

He starts breathing deeply as Simeon turns around and makes a move to start walking away. He made it. He survived. He will have to deal with Simeon once again, but for now he rejoices in this small victory: he’s still alive. His heart is pounding so loudly that he doesn’t even hear Simeon’s reproaching footsteps.

‘But then again,’ Simeon’s voice booms next to his ear and he jumps in shock, ‘killing you now will give me so much joy.’

And with these words, Simeon pushes him back. Hard.

He falls over the edge and stars falling down. The wind is icy and feels like razor blades cutting through his skin. There’s nothing he can do, he knows that.

 _It’s only a few seconds and everything will be over_ , he thinks to himself.

He closes his eyes before everything turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right.  
> so that happened. oops?
> 
> chapter title also from 'I love you, honeybear' by FJM. titles of this and previous chapter come from the same line of the song. I figured it'd kind of tie them together. 
> 
> once again, thanks for all the comments & kudos, they mean a world.


	8. I figured out where I belong

He opens his eyes and there’s no angels there waiting to greet him. There’s no white light or pearly gates and no St. Peter welcoming him in heaven. On the other hand, there’s no Lucifer welcoming him in hell, so at least that’s good news.

‘Oh, Mr. Smith, good to see you awake,’ a quiet and calm voice rings to his left. He turns his head – crap, why does his neck and back hurt so much? – to see a woman dressed in a nurse outfit. She’s looking at him with mild concern on her face.

A nurse?

Okay, so there are two options: either he’s in hospital or it’s a beginning of a really kinky sex dream. He’s not sure which is the correct answer.

‘I’m in hospital?’ He asks weakly and the nurse nods her head. He sighs in relief.

‘Yes, you are. You don’t remember much, I gather?’ She asks and he shakes his head. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to go and get Doctor Jones. She’ll be thrilled to know you’re awake.’

The nurse leaves the room and he’s left alone.

He takes a deep breath.

So he’s not dead. He can deal with that. The question remains: how did he survive the fall? He looks to his side and notices that his left hand is in the cast. There’s something written on it in red ink. He squeezes his eyes and reads ‘ _Get better, Raggedy Man!_ ’. Underneath it, there are Rory’s and Amy’s signatures and underneath that, there’s another line added in Amy’s handwriting.

‘ _P.S. You are an idiot._ ’

He smiles at that. Some things never change.

The hand in the cast hurts a bit, but other than that it seems that he’s fairly okay. Fine, so his neck hurts, so does his back, but his fall could’ve ended much worse.

His thoughts are interrupted by a woman entering the room.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting,’ she says quickly and crosses the room to stand by his bed. ‘I was in the clinic downstairs, it’s kind of busy there right now. I’m doctor Jones and-‘

‘Jones... Wait a minute...,’ he stares at the woman in front of him. ‘I know you! Martha Jones! You were at The University of Heroics!’

‘Yes, I was,’ Martha smiles. ‘It was some time ago, I’m surprised you remember.’

‘I never forget a face,’ he smiles back. ‘You quit though. It’s a shame. You’d make a great hero.’

‘Maybe,’ Martha shrugs. ‘I figured... It wasn’t for me. Don’t get me wrong, you all are doing a great job, but at one point I realised you don’t have to be a certified hero to do something significant.’

‘That’s what Rory says,’ he sighs and mimics Rory’s voice. ‘ _Not all victories are about saving the world._ ’

‘Rory? You mean, Rory Williams?’ Martha brightens at that. ‘I know him. He’s a great guy. And a great nurse. We work together sometimes. And I agree with him, 100%,’ she gives him another bright smile. ‘But enough of the chit-chat. I’m here to check if you’re alright.’

For the next few minutes, Martha checks his vitals and performs a few tests on him. Once she’s done and satisfied with the results, she explains the nature of his injuries. As it turns out, he has more luck than sense: she got away with his left arm broken, a few bruised ribs and slightly bruised back. Nothing more, not even a concussion.

‘You’re doing fine,’ Martha finally says as she stands up. ‘I’d like to keep you here one more day though. You were out for nearly 2 days and we’re not sure why. I’d like to observe you some more, just to be sure.’

‘No problem,’ he nods his head. ‘Uhm... Listen, if you don’t mind... Could you tell me what happened? After the fall, I mean. I don’t really remember much.’

‘It’s natural,’ Martha nods her head. ‘I’m sure the memories will come back to you. And sure, I can tell you-,’ her beeper goes off and she fishes it out of her pocket. One look at it and she’s already by the door. ‘Listen, I have to go. I’ll inform your friends that you’re awake, they’ll come and tell you everything.’

And just like that, he’s left alone. There’s no television in his room, no newspapers, his phone is dead. Great. He has no idea when Amy and Rory will arrive, so he does the only thing one can do in circumstances like that: he sleeps.

When he wakes up a few hours later, he hears Amy’s voice through the door. It’s her _quiet_ voice, one she thinks is a whisper, but in reality it’s not much different from her normal voice.

‘All I’m saying is that you should at least come in and say hello,’ Amy says hurriedly and whomever she’s talking to must reply to her, but he can’t hear anything, except for a few muttered words. ‘Are you kidding me? After all you’ve done, you just want to leave now? You’re just as unbearable as he is, I swear! I am just so fed up with you. If it’s not him moping than it’s you behaving like an idiot. You’d make a wonderful-‘

He can hear Rory’s voice, trying his best to calm Amy. Finally, after a while she sighs, says ‘ _whatever_ ’ and with a loud huff, she walks into his room. Rory follows right behind her, with a bunch of colourful flowers and chocolates. Amy presses a smacking kiss to kiss forehead and sits in the chair next to his bed.

‘Hello, idiot,’ she says with a smile. Rory mouths ‘ _sorry_ ’ behind her back. ‘Feeling better?’

‘I would if you stopped calling me an idiot. I’m in hospital! Show some respect,’ he says, but breaks into a smile. ‘Good to see you, Ponds.’

‘I can’t show you respect if you’re an idiot. That’s just the law,’ Amy shrugs.

‘Amy,’ Rory chides gently.

‘What? It’s not like I’m lying. He is an idiot,’ Amy sighs. ‘I’m not the one who went to a meeting with my nemesis all alone, without any preparation. And I’m not the one who let myself be pushed from the top of the building. He was lucky that Riv-,’ she suddenly stops and bites her lip. She clears her throat and changes the subject. ‘Anyway, I’m going to write an article about it and you’re going to give me an interview. An exclusive interview, as a _thank you_ for all the stress you caused me and Rory.’

‘You know, I might be a bit bruised, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed that little thing just there,’ he says and notices that Amy and Rory exchange worried glances. ‘What was that about?’

‘What was what about?’ They both ask at the same time.

‘Both of you are lying,’ he says slowly. ‘Curious. Now... Tell me what happened after I fell. How did I survive? And please, no lies. I know when you’re lying.’

The Ponds exchange one more look – this time it’s one full of quiet resignation – and start the story. Once they’re finished, he’s very glad he’s been sitting in his bed all this time. His skinny ass was saved by no one else but River Song. She caught him mid-fall, using as Amy put it ‘ _a small helicopter, a harness, some lines and sick ninja skills’_. Due to the wind, they both have been knocked around – he hit the side of the building a few times, hence his injuries.

But that’s not all. Apparently, after she deposited him safely on the ground – in the hands of paramedics whom she’d called earlier – she went back up and not only managed to destroy the clouds and snow designed by Simeon, but she also persuaded him to resign from the job.

Basically, she turned out to be a better superhero than he has ever been.

It doesn’t even surprise him at this point.

 ‘Uhm, what are you doing?’ Rory asks with concern as he starts scrambling out of his bed.

‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving,’ he says. Where the hell are this clothes? ‘I need to find River and talk with her and explain a few things-‘

‘John,’ Amy starts soothingly, ‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea. You should probably stay in bed. Martha told us she wants to keep you in here for one more day-‘

‘Exactly,’ Rory nods his head. ‘Stay here for just one more day, make sure that everything is fine with you and then you can do whatever you want.’

‘I don’t care if everything is fine with me or not,’ he snaps angrily. ‘I just want to talk with River! And I’m getting out of here, whether you help me or not.’

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ a voice rings from the doorway. ‘You probably aren’t wearing anything underneath these covers and I doubt that Amy and Rory want to witness that sight.’

The Ponds and he turn their heads towards the door, only to see River standing by the door, staring at them with a half smile on her face. His heart starts beating faster at the mere sight of her and a bizarre feeling of contentment settles over him. How on earth has he survived the last few weeks without her?

‘River! You’re still here?’ Amy exclaims. ‘I thought you left and-,’ she clasps a hand over her mouth and looks at Rory in panic.

‘I think it’ll be better if we leave now,’ Rory says and hoists Amy from her chair. ‘Come on, Amy, we have things to do, uhm, you know. We have to... Clean our fridge and... Stuff. Bye, John! Bye, River!’ He says as he drags protesting Amy behind him.

River and he are left alone in the room and for a few moments they don’t exchange any words, just look at each other. River looks tired, with dark circles under her eyes and ashy skin. She steps from one foot to another almost as if she was... Uncomfortable. Or shy. The mere thought of River being shy or unsure of herself nearly makes him laugh. But he takes one more look at her slightly furrowed brows and the way she bites her lower lip and he realises that maybe she really is nervous and uncomfortable.

‘I, uhm... Would you like to sit down?’ He finally says and waves his hand in the direction of the chair Amy just deserted. ‘If you want, that is. You don’t have to, but it’d be nice. I mean-‘

‘John? You’re babbling,’ River says and rolls her eyes. She moves quietly and sits on the edge of the chair. ‘Right then, I’m sitting. What now?’

That’s one hell of a good question. He’d love to know the answer to that.

The silence in the room is almost painful.

‘I... Thank you,’ he finally says quickly, almost shouting the words out loud. ‘I know you saved me and the city, and somehow got rid of Simeon. I have no idea how you did that, but thank you,’ he finishes lamely and clears his throat.

These are not words he wanted to say.

‘Not a problem,’ River answers brightly. A bit too brightly. ‘Glad to be of help.’

‘But how did you know? I tried contacting you – well, not about Simeon, about something else and uhm...,’ he stutters and feels himself blush. Great. Let’s see if he can make himself look even more like an idiot.

‘As I said, no problem,’ River gives him one more too cheerful smile. ‘I knew Simeon when I was a kid, so I realise what he’s capable of.’

‘You knew him? During the time in the orphanage? Was he Kovarian’s associate?’ He asks excitedly and only when shock flashes across River’s face, he realises what he just said. ‘I mean... Uhm, You knew him?’

‘You know about the orphanage,’ she says flatly.

‘I... Yes,’ he sighs heavily and winces in pain. Gods, he must’ve hit that wall hard. ‘I wanted to... Understand. This whole thing, you, how you- You said that not everyone has a choice. I didn’t believe you then, but now-‘

‘Now what?’ River interrupts him sharply.

‘Now I know that you were right,’ he says quietly. ‘Not everyone is lucky enough to be able to choose. You weren’t. But that doesn’t make you a bad person. In fact... I think you’re much better person than I am,’ he swallows around the lump in his throat. ‘And I’m sorry. I behaved like a jerk – more than once if I’m to be honest. If I could turn back time... But I can’t. I don’t... It probably means nothing to you anymore, but I’m sorry.’

He says it all without even looking at River. It’s so quiet in the room that he’s not even sure she’s in here anymore  - and if she’s still here with him, he expects her to get up and leave any second now. Instead, he feels her hand on top of his – warm and soft, gently squeezing his palm. Startled, he looks up to see her looking at him with a gentle smile on her face.

‘River,’ he whispers in awe. In awe of her, of everything she is and everything she’s chosen to be despite her inability to really choose. She’s absolutely extraordinary, she’s something he hasn’t encountered before. She’s... Amazing. ‘I went to New York. I saw the files, the articles... I read it all. I came back here, ran to your apartment but you were already gone. I’m so sorry, I wanted to say that-‘

‘Hush now,’ she says gently and smiles at him again. ‘I understand. It’s okay. I mean... It’s not, not right now. Not yet. But... I’d like it to be okay. Soon.’

‘I’d like it to be okay as well,’ he smiles back and squeezes her fingers. For a few moments neither of them speak, at least not with words. It’s funny, because right here and now, this his small hospital room, bruised and broken, he feels happier than he’s ever felt in his life. ‘You know,’ he finally breaks the silence and intertwines his fingers with River’s, ‘I heard that the residing villain’s position is free again. I think I have just the right candidate for this job. How do you feel about that, Miss Song?’

‘I think that I’m a bit tired of this whole superhero/villain mess at this moment,’ she says with a small smirk. ‘I think I might need some time off. Preferably somewhere warm. Preferably not alone.’

‘I definitely know just the right candidate for that,’ he snorts and gently pulls River towards him, until she’s nestled right next to him on the bed. It’s a small bed and they’re basically squeezed together, but he’s not the one to complain.

‘As for the job...,’ River starts and her breath hitches as he kisses her neck, ‘I think I’ll need some persuasion.’

He definitely knows the guy for this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here is the last chapter. thanks to all of you who spend their time on reading this fic - I hope you don't consider this time as wasted. thank you for all the comments and kudos, and your demands to make things right again ;).   
> hope you enjoyed the ending - I tried to wrap it up in just one chapter, because I was afraid that otherwise the fic would go on and on and on. and I really didn't want that to happen. once again: thank you all for reading and I hope you had as much fun reading this fic as I had writing it :).
> 
> chapter title from FATM's 'long & lost'.


End file.
